


A Very Queer Christmas

by thebermuda



Series: Unabashedly Shameful [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Collars and leashes, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Cuddling, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Incest, Lingerie, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Petplay, Romance, Severin's a hebephile FYI, severich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebermuda/pseuds/thebermuda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severin's home on leave for December, hoping to see Sebastian, but Jim's not letting that happen. When Sebastian has to leave for a month-long job (what a coincidence!), Severin is left horribly alone. Except, that is, for a certain Richard Brook. But Richie looks far too much like Jim for Sev's liking, and Sev's never going to buy that a grown man could really be so sweet...</p><p>(Note: It's not necessary to read Part I before reading Part II.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nostos

**Author's Note:**

> Not to be annoying, but **read this first:**
> 
> This is not Part 2 of the Unabashedly Shameful series; it's Part 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 1st

He found his way alright, but no one answered when he buzzed the door. Not that he needed anyone to – Sebastian had given him the access code, and although the door had needed a fingerprint, too, that hadn’t been any trouble. He entered and ascended the steps, ignoring the tightness in his belly. He felt either manic or on the verge of vomiting, he couldn’t tell which. His hand shook when he reached the stair landing and opened the second door, stepping into the living room. 

The living room was white, well-lit, and clean. The furniture was all black, except for the glass table in the center, and everything was a little too art deco. Severin frowned. He had no particular aversion to it; he had no strong opinions on interior design at all. It was rather that nothing looked like _Sebastian._ It reeked of James Moriarty, but he never would have guessed that Sebastian lived here. 

Of course, what did he know? It’d been over a year since he’d last seen his brother. People changed. 

In the center of the living room was a black leather couch, its back facing Severin. On the center of the couch was a man. It wasn’t his brother. 

Leg crossed over his opposite knee, filing his nails with an annoyingly fastidious hand, was Moriarty. He was looking simultaneously all around the room and only at his nails with those looney fucking eyes of his. Christ, he looked like a puppet. Although he wasn’t the puppet, naturally. He was the puppeteer, casting his strings all over men who weren’t made to follow his orders, over men who were supposed to be _here._

“Where’s Sebastian?” Severin asked. He didn’t announce himself; Moriarty had recognized him the moment he entered the living room, possibly the moment he entered Heathrow. Just because he wasn’t looking didn’t mean he didn’t see. 

“Work,” Moriarty said, so lowly Severin almost didn’t catch it. At least he’d cut the singsong bullshit he’d tried to pull last year. Maybe he sensed that if he pulled that now Severin would snap and fucking claw those googling mad eyes out, tear at his fucking – 

“My, my, Severin, don’t just stand there getting all worked up,” Moriarty said, still filing his nails. They were fucking perfect already. “Sit down. Your brother would want you to make yourself at home.” A slight and dangerous smile, which said, _I dare you._

This was his territory, after all. Severin didn’t belong here. 

But he did belong with his brother. 

“When’s he coming back?” Severin asked. He didn’t sit down. 

“When he’s done with work,” Moriarty said. In a single motion he tucked his nail filer in his pocket and stood. “Probably very late. I don’t suggest you wait up for him.” 

He walked out of the room without saying anything else. Severin exhaled and sat down. Time passed. Hours. Eventually night came, but it was moonless outside, and dark in the room. When Severin coughed a dim light turned on. Sounds of Moriarty slinking through the apartment could be heard and once, without saying where he was going, Moriarty left. Severin hadn’t moved from the couch until then, but when he heard the front door close he rushed to pee and get a glass of water. He dried his glass and placed it back in the cabinet just so. He returned to the couch long before Moriarty came back. When Moriarty returned, he walked down the hallway and closed a door, perhaps sealing himself in his bedroom. Even criminal geniuses needed sleep, although the notion seemed odd to Severin. 

Did he lock his bedroom door? What would he do if Severin went in there? Severin didn’t care what he would do, of course. Severin cared about what Severin would do, and Severin would slit his fucking throat. Blood would gush out, all over Moriarty’s bed, all over Severin’s own hands, hot and rewarding. 

And what if Sebastian came home just then, to find his puppeteer dead? That probably wouldn’t end well for Severin. 

When _was_ Sebastian coming home? 

Severin was thirsty again, but he didn’t doubt that Moriarty would hear him if he got off the couch. He was stiff, and exhausted from his flight, but he wasn’t about to fall asleep before seeing Sebastian. 

He was still sitting upright on the couch when the front door opened. He opened his eyes, unmoving, and heard someone – Sebastian – enter the living room. He didn’t turn around, but waited for Sebastian to speak. 

“Sebby! I’m home!” Pale arms wrapped around his neck, Moriarty’s voice screeching in his ear. Severin roared liked he was being attacked, Moriarty’s arms still gripping around his neck like a vice. He yanked them off and whirled around, jumping over the couch to tackle Moriarty to the ground. 

“You piece of shit,” Severin growled, wrapping a hand around Moriarty’s scrawny little neck. Moriarty squirmed and struggled, gaping but unable to say anything. “Sebastian said he would be here when I got home. He was supposed to be here. Where is he? WHERE IS HE?” He shook Moriarty, releasing his neck, and Moriarty gasped for air. Then, after the redness faded from his face, Moriarty began to cry. 

Before Severin could react, Sebastian was suddenly in the living room. He hadn’t heard Seb come in, but of course he wouldn’t – Seb was still working as Moriarty’s private assassin, after all. Wordlessly, Sebastian rushed to Severin and dragged him away from Moriarty. 

Moriarty was sitting up, wiping at his eyes. He was sniffling softly, disgusting, putting on some kind of _show._ What for? What was the point? Poking fun at Severin? 

“Are you okay, Richie?” Sebastian asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He looked at Moriarty tenderly, and Moriarty gave a small nod, his eyes flicking back and forth between Sebastian and Severin. 

“This is my brother, Rich. He’s been away in the army for a long time now, and I never had time to tell you he was coming here on leave. He’ll be here until after New Year’s. Severin,” Sebastian said, turning to him, “meet Richard. And don’t _hurt_ Richard. He’s Jim’s younger brother and he moved in with us a few months ago. He’s very delicate, so be nice.” 

“I’m not delicate!” Richard piped up, wiping away at his tears. “Severin just surprised me. I didn’t know – I thought – I thought you were Sebby. Sorry.” Richard smiled sheepishly and put out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Severin.” 

Severin didn’t move. He echoed softly, “Younger brother?” 

“Older, actually,” Richard said. His voice dropped to match Severin’s quiet volume. “By just a few seconds.” 

Severin ignored him and looked at Sebastian. “How many brothers does Moriarty have?” 

“Just Rich,” Sebastian said. “Are you going to shake his hand or not?” 

Richard Moriarty still had his hand held out. Severin looked at it contemptuously. 

“I’m here to see Sebastian,” he said simply, and stood. “And I’ve been waiting for you for hours, Seb.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. Strangely, he sounded like he meant it. “I got…held up on a job.” 

“Was everything okay?” Richard asked. Severin watched as Sebastian helped Richard up off the floor. Severin immediately disliked and distrusted him – not only was he Moriarty’s exact physical replica, but he seemed to be wearing some kind of weird, innocent veneer. ‘Was everything okay?’ he asked, referring to Sebastian’s hits like they’re a regular 9-5. He had the Moriarty lack of conscience, but still made Sebastian help him off the floor like a fucking child. 

“Of course, Rich,” Sebastian said. Then he frowned, reaching out and stroking Richard’s neck. Severin thought he was going to be sick. “My brother’s given you a bruise, Richie.” 

“Oh!” Richard’s hands went to his throat. “That – that’s okay! I…I bruise easily.” 

“Why don’t you go get Jim to look at it? Severin and I have some catching up to do,” Sebastian said. 

“Okay,” Richard said. He looked at Severin nervously, as if he were afraid Severin would pounce on him again. Good. He said, “Good – good night, then. It was nice meeting you.” 

Severin didn’t say a word until Richard left the room. 

He didn’t say a word after that, either. He’d been waiting for Sebastian all day – all year, two years, really – but looking at Sebastian now… Sebastian’s hair had grown out. He’d gained a few scars on his face, his neck. Other places beneath his clothes, too, Sev was certain. It was now easy to distinguish between the two of them simply because Severin had a military buzz cut and Sebastian didn’t. Severin tried not to think about how that made him feel. 

Sebastian stepped forward and placed his hands on Severin’s shoulders. He pulled him close, taking control, like he always had. Their lips met and Sebastian’s hand slid down over Severin’s military cotton T-shirt, and Severin tilted his head, and Sebastian’s tongue traced across Severin’s bottom lip. Severin stepped back. 

“You don’t have to touch me.” He was tired. 

“I want to,” Sebastian said, but even those words sounded rote and robotic. Like they were poorly reenacting a scene they used to perform with passion years ago. But the play was over and it was only ever Severin who wanted an encore. Now he just wanted to go home. 

Wherever that was. 

“You don’t,” Severin said. “I don’t, either. I’m exhausted. Where can I sleep?” 

Sebastian’s eyes widened; clearly he hadn’t thought of that yet. 

“Richie sleeps in the guest room now. It’s been turned into his bedroom,” Sebastian said. 

Severin released a hollow laugh. Moriarty stole Sebastian, stole Severin’s chance to come back to a home, a place where he belonged. And now Moriarty’s brother had taken the guest bedroom. Severin didn’t even get to be a fucking _guest_ anymore. 

“You should have just told me to get a hotel,” Severin said. 

“There’s – ” 

“The couch. Right. Thanks for your hospitality,” Severin said, bitterness in every word. “Do you have extra sheets, or is Moriarty Number Two using those up as well?” 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed. “His name is Richard.” He turned around. “There are sheets in the closet in the hallway. I’m going to sleep.” 

“Not even going to tuck me in? I don’t get a bedtime story?” 

“Don’t be a fucking brat,” Sebastian said, walking away. 

_Then spend the night with me._ “Enjoy sleeping with your pocket psycho.” 

“I will. I always do,” Seb responded, and that hurt. Stupidly, it hurt. 

Severin didn’t care. 

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting. Well, he knew. For some reason he thought that last Christmas wouldn’t be repeated, that Sebastian would have grown less keen on the psycho in the passing year. That Seb might actually fucking miss his brother. 

Severin snorted. 

Now that Sebastian was home, though, Severin felt suddenly less like a statue inside the apartment, like he could go get himself another glass of water. 

When he came back, Moriarty – no, the other one, what was it, Richard – was fluffing a pillow at the foot of the couch. He’d spread a sheet and duvet over the couch, making a bed. When he looked up and saw Severin, he squeaked. 

“Are – are you going to bed now?” he asked. “Because I thought that maybe you could h-have my room, since you’re our gu-guest and all.” He waited for Severin to respond. When he didn’t, he continued, “I-if you don’t mind, I’ll take the couch, and – and – if you need anything, I could – I mean – I know where everything is, and I – I – ” 

“On and on and on,” Severin interrupted. “You babble just like your brother.” 

He set his glass of water on the table. 

“I – I do babble, sometimes,” Richard said, ducking his head down. “I don’t mean to, but – oh! Um, Se…Severin. Jim doesn’t – doesn’t like it when we don’t use coasters.” 

Severin blinked. A moment passed and then, without him fully willing it, his hand was on Richard’s throat again. He didn’t press hard, just needed to show Richard that he wasn’t protected, that Severin could touch Richard, _hurt_ him if he wanted to. James and Richard Moriarty might be clever little devils, but Severin was trained to kill. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Severin said. “I’m not Sebastian. I’m not your little puppet, I’m not going to do what you say. I’m here for a month and I see no reason why we should speak again. Say one more word to me and I’ll break your little bones.” 

He let go of Richard and Richard staggered back. Richard looked up at him with big, frightened eyes. But more than fright they were marked by disbelief. Not used to a Moran being something other than a chew toy, then. 

Severin moved towards the couch, towards Richard, and Richard squeaked again. He stumbled back and then dashed out of the living room. His fear was too hyperbolic to be anything other than an act – still poking fun at Severin, clearly. Hilarious Severin Moran, the abandoned brother, the brother left behind, the brother too fucking stupid to keep up with the Moriarty’s games. 

He snapped his fingers and the lights clicked off. He laid down and stared at the ceiling.


	2. Miserable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 2nd

Severin awoke to the sound of someone breathing. He kept his eyes closed, his breathing deep and steady like a sleeper’s. Swiftly he launched up and wrapped his arms around the attacker’s neck, yanking him down and cutting off his air supply –

And it was Sebastian, and Sebastian grabbed Severin and pulled him off the couch, to the floor, and they grappled. Severin went for a cheap shot between the legs, but missed as Sebastian punched him in the stomach. Severin punched him right back, and they were grinning, and Sebastian was on top of him, pinning him down, warm and familiar… They stayed like that, wordless, looking each other in the eyes, for several long seconds. 

“Big brother showing you up, Sevvy?” 

And the moment ended. 

Moriarty’s voice sounded above them, and Sebastian released Severin’s wrists. He got up and stood by Moriarty’s side. He was dressed in a suit Moriarty was probably making him wear, and looked like Moriarty’s good little bodyguard. Severin’s upper lip twitched. 

Jim’s upper lip twitched, too, and then he twitched one of his eyes, and the other, and then clapped his hands once and tilted his head back, laughing, as if he’d done something funny. With a quick twist of his heel he left the living room again, snapping his finger as he went. 

Gesturing that Sebastian follow him, as if Seb were some kind of dog. 

Sebastian moved to help Severin off the floor, but he stood on his own. They looked at each other a moment, before Sebastian said, “Jim and I have a meeting. Richie will be here – he’s practicing lines for his new play. He acts. Don’t scare him while I’m gone.” 

It honesty took a few seconds for Severin to remember who “Richie” could be. When he did he brushed the knowledge away and said, “When are you coming back?” 

Christ. Hopefully that didn’t sound as desperate as he thought it did. 

“We can have dinner together,” Seb said. And then he, too, left. 

* * * * 

Severin was hungry but there wasn’t any food in the house, and he couldn’t bring himself to go outside. It was fucking cold out there, and besides, there was something good about missing Sebastian while hungry. The hunger was a distraction, gnawing at him so his feelings didn’t. He took a brief shower, and returned to the couch. He owed himself – the army owed him – about a thousand hours of sleep, so he could rest up. 

He could, that is, if Moriarty’s brother’s voice wasn’t seeping through the walls, loud and chirpy and obnoxious. His voice flowed confidently as he read his lines – was he reading Moliere? – again and again, tilting each word with an intonation just so. He was a good actor. He weird child-act from last night proved that. He’d been stumbling, stuttering, and babbling like an idiot. Did he think he sounded like Severin? 

It made sense that one of the Moriartys would be an actor. Warping words, pretending, placing on carefully-constructed veneers. It sounded like the perfect career for Jim. Maybe Richard, when he wasn’t putting on plays, was a domestic terrorist, too. 

Severin squeezed his fists shut. He couldn’t shut out the voice, though. 

* * * * 

London was cold and grey. Of course it was, it was fucking London. He never understood why, when the sky was perpetually grey, they would make the pavement and buildings grey, too. The desert had been orange, and his uniform was usually orange, and yellow and orange and yellow and grey and grey and grey and 

He’d gotten Chinese food. Five minutes elapsed between his buying it and finding a bench to sit on and it was already cold. People kept shooting him wary glances, reacting to the scowl on his face. The dumplings tasted like large worms and there was a car accident down the street, between a taxi and a Volvo. 

What was the fucking point? 

* * * * 

He didn’t get back to the apartment until it was dark. When he did, it’s possible he smelled like drink and cheap perfume, but that was no one’s business. It hadn’t made him feel better, so it didn’t count. 

He sat on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. There wasn’t a single god damned crack on that ceiling, or spider web, or smudge. It was an immaculate ceiling. It reminded him of Moriarty and he hated it. 

He turned his head as Moriarty walked into the living room. No, not Moriarty. The twin who didn’t wear suits. Richard. 

Richard stood staring at him for a moment, as he stared back. He imagined his eyes were cold, icy blue and brutal. There was a soft purplish bruise on Richard’s neck, barely visible, from where Severin’s fingertips had gripped too tightly. 

“Se…Sev…erin,” Richard finally said, as if the word had been in his mouth for a long time. He sounded each syllable out very carefully. 

What was he playing at? 

Severin grunted in acknowledgement. 

“Seb called. He-he said he can’t…can’t come home for dinner tonight. But I’m making some yummy food, potatoes and parsley and onion… If you wa-want some. You – you can eat. With me. If you want.” By the time he finished his voice was soft and it looked like he was talking to the floor. He kept bouncing from the tips of his toes to the balls of his feet. 

Severin observed him for a few seconds. What was the point of behaving that way? 

There was no point to anything the Moriartys did, maybe. Destroying London and faking a stutter, all for laughs. Or not even that. For something Severin didn’t understand, and didn’t care to. 

“No,” he said finally. “I’m ordering takeout.” 

“Oh! That-that works too!” Richard said, on his toes. “I have takeout menus in a drawer in the kitchen…” 

“I’ll get my own,” Severin said. And Richard looked up like he might object, but when he saw Severin’s eyes he shut up, turned around, and went away. Severin didn’t see him for the rest of the night. 


	3. The Right Occupation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 3rd

Poor Severin Moran. Richard felt bad for him, even if Severin did frighten him, and seemed about ten times angrier than Sebastian. Sebastian was sweet and gentle, but there were times when Richard thought that Severin might actually hurt him… He brushed his fingers over his neck. The bruise was healing. 

But oh, oh, no matter how bad he felt, he really didn’t want to have to be the one to tell Severin this. He’d do it now, of course, in the morning. Get it over with for Severin's sake. Severin woke up army-early, but Sebastian and Jim had awoken and left even earlier. Richard had woken up as early as his body could possibly allow – nine – in order to tell Severin as soon as possible. His heart broke for Severin, though, as much as he feared Severin’s reaction. 

At nine, Severin was doing pushups in the living room. He didn’t look up when Richard entered the doorway, so Richard took a moment to watch. This had everything to do with wanting to assess Severin’s current mood and nothing to do with the fact that Severin wasn’t wearing a shirt. Eventually Richard coughed to let Severin know he was there. 

But Severin paid no mind. 

Richard coughed again. 

Resting in a pushup stand, Severin looked up, seeming agitated. He got that look in his eye every time he saw Richard. Richard hadn’t done anything wrong, he was positive. Why did he dislike Rich so much? 

“Go-good morning,” Richard began. His stutter, usually dormant nowadays, always returned when Severin was glaring at him. He had very nice shoulders, though, like Sebastian’s, only with less scars, so Rich focused on that. “Seb woke me up ear-early last night. He and Jim ha-have a job.” 

“So they’ll be out all day?” Oh, boy. Severin didn’t sound pleased. Richard felt terrible having to deliver even worse news. 

“All day and…and…al-al-al – ” He closed his mouth. Severin was glaring at him even more – his stutter annoyed Severin. Richard was flushing; he knew he must be bright red. He hated when his tongue did this; got so heavy and large in his mouth that he couldn’t say what he needed. 

Severin stood up with a single, quick push of his arms. God, he must be strong. Richard swallowed. 

“Stop stuttering,” Severin said. 

Richard felt his face get even hotter. Severin was just staring at him, angry, waiting for him to deliver news he didn’t want to deliver, and the longer he stood there stuttering like an idiot the angrier Severin would get, but as soon as he said what he needed to say then Severin would get angrier anyway, and no, no, no, this wasn’t happening, he was _not_ crying, those were _not_ tears coming to his eyes. 

_“Keep my brother company while I’m gone.” _Sebastian had asked that of him, and Rich, in his half-asleep state, had promised he would. But how could he ever spend time with someone who made him cry and stutter during most of their brief interactions?__

Severin wasn’t making him cry, of course. God, he was so stupid… 

“What is it?” Severin prompted, impatient. 

Richard wiped away at his tears – they _weren’t_ tears – and took a deep breath. He tried again. “Jim and Seb have work for the month. A very im-important job overseas. In the United States. So they’re…they’re gone.” 

He allowed that to digest for a few seconds. Then he added a quiet, “Sorry,” to soften it, but he doubted it really helped. 

Severin’s first reaction was a lack of comprehension. Then, suddenly, his eyes widened, and for the first time Richard saw what he looked like when he wasn’t glowering. His lips parted and he looked hurt. Rich took a step forward. 

“I’m really sorry, Severin,” he said. “I’ll be here with you for the month, until you have to go again.” 

Probably not what Severin wanted. He just wanted his big brother, of course. Richard knew exactly what that was like. But anything was better than being alone, right? 

“Did Seb know about this job before?” Severin asked. 

“No.” 

Severin blinked. “So _your brother_ woke up in the middle of the night and just decided that my brother had to leave me – leave – for all of December?” 

“Of c-course not!” Richard said. He couldn’t blame this on Jim! Jim didn’t want to leave Richard for a whole month either, especially not over Christmas. Well, Jim probably didn’t know Christmas was coming up. But it still wasn’t his fault. “He would n-never do that!” 

Severin gave a hollow laugh. It frightened Rich. “That’s exactly what Moriarty would do. That fucking bastard.” 

“Things like this pop up all of the time,” Richard said. “The banking world is like that – you never know when you might have to just hop on a plane and go.” 

Of course, Rich really thought Jim should have left Seb behind, so he could get to see his brother. Brothers having to be apart was the worst thing in the world. But then, of course, Jim wouldn’t have his bodyguard, and Richard didn’t like the thought of him being unprotected… 

Jim had probably made the best choice. 

“Banking world?” Severin blinked. “Is that what he calls it? Like it’s about the money for him?” 

“Huh? No…He calls – Jim – he – Jim works for a bank,” Richard said. 

“A bank,” Severin repeated. 

“Y…Yeah…” Severin was looking more closely at Richard than he’d ever looked at him before, and it was throwing him off. 

“You think Jim works for a bank?” 

“He does,” Rich said. 

“And that’s how he makes his money?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“What does he do?” 

“Huh?” 

“At the bank? What does he do?” Severin repeated. 

Richard bit his lip. “Um…H-he’s told me before…” That didn’t mean Richard had understood it, or been listening. “Banks aren’t really my…my thing.” 

“Right. And Sebastian? He works for the bank, too?” 

“For Jimmy.” 

Richard didn’t miss how Severin cringed at Jim’s nickname. How could anyone dislike Jim so much? 

“What does he do for him?” 

“He’s his bodyguard, of course. And sometimes an assistant. He’s never told you?” 

“For a banker? Sebastian guards a banker?” Severin said. 

“Banking can b-be dangerous, maybe. Better safe than sorry,” Richard said. 

“Naturally,” Severin agreed, but he was looking at Richard strangely, as if he was looking at a painting and couldn’t quite tell what it depicted. 

“I’m really sorry you can’t see your brother,” Richard said, both because he didn’t know what else to say and because he meant it. 

“Me too,” Severin said, and for some reason his own words made him look vaguely surprised. 

“Do you – do you want a hug, maybe?” Richard offered. Hugs made everything a little better, right? 

But Severin said, “No, Richard. I don’t want a hug.” And he turned away, conversation ended, and went back to his pushups. 

He’d said Richard’s name, though. Richard turned to leave the living room, giving him some space. Maybe he’d want a hug later. 


	4. Christmas Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 4th-6th

Richard was getting awfully worried about Severin Moran. Two days had passed, and Richard wasn’t sure Severin had left the living room once except to use the loo. He hadn’t seen him eat, even. 

Richard knew how terrible being away from one’s big brother could be, although Richard was pretty sure that Seb and Severin didn’t have _that_ kind of relationship. Sebastian, after all, hadn’t mentioned Severin in all the six months that Richard had been living with him. Richard wasn’t sure what it’d be like to have a brother who was just a brother, a big brother who didn’t touch you and love you like Jim did. Was it like that? “Just” a brother? Or was having just a brother more than “just” a brother, was there still something magical to it? Going by Severin’s depression, which seemed to be solely the result of Seb’s absence, there was. 

Well, regardless, Richard was helping as much as he could. Or more precisely – he was doing everything he could think of doing, even if it didn’t help at all. On the first day that Seb was gone, Richard made Severin a big lunch. Richard didn’t eat meat, but he betted Severin did, and so he went out and bought pastrami and Russian dressing and sauerkraut and rye bread, and made a big pastrami special. It was thick and greasy and, if you liked meat, undoubtedly delicious. Richard thought it was a fitting meal for someone so big, and just the kind of guilty luxury someone would want on vacation. Richard laid out a tablemat and cutlery, and positioned the plate just so, in the middle of the tablemat, with the sandwich in the middle of the plate. He put some flowers in a vase on the table, and then came out into the living room to find Severin on the couch. 

He lay back tight and compact, his limbs cramped in, as if there weren’t enough room in the apartment for him. His eyes were on the ceiling. 

_Keep my brother company while I’m gone,_ Sebastian had said. _Yes, Sebby,_ thought Richard, and he cleared his throat. “I made you lunch,” he said. 

Severin made no movement. 

“It should be very good,” Richard said. “Sebastian likes these a lot. So I think that maybe, maybe you should eat while it’s still hot.” 

Severin took a deep breath. Richard thought that, on his exhale, he’d say something. But he didn’t. He just lay there. He looked so sad, and it broke Richard’s heart. But he scared Richard, too, so Rich left for rehearsal, and left the sandwich on the table. 

When he came back the sandwich was still there. Richard felt terrible throwing out the meat. 

* * * * 

By the evening of the third day, Richard was tired of cooking for two and seeing half the food wasted. And it wasn’t just the wasted food – Severin didn’t clean up after himself. The living room was getting clustered, but when Richard had tried to straighten it up Severin had gotten snappy. And he wasn’t bathing, which was sad, because Jim’s jacuzzi seemed perfect for a soldier looking to relax on vacation. But even worse than that was that he was sort of starting to smell. It was Christmastime and Richard had been left alone with a smelly, grumpy solider. It was unbearable. 

So he proposed an ultimatum. 

“Severin,” he called, entering the living room. He’d just gotten home from rehearsals – they’d gone well, although they were still in the beginning stages. Not everyone knew their lines just yet. 

Severin, as usual, didn’t acknowledge him. Richard still felt sympathy for him, of course, but he saw no reason to be so rude. Richard had been perfectly accommodating and he was tired of be ignored or yelled at. 

He stood in front of the couch, making sure the glass table was between them. He was shaking a bit, nervous, but he crossed his arms. 

“Tonight I’m going out,” he said. “The other actors in the play and I are getting together for a party.” 

Severin didn’t move. Possibly he shrugged his shoulders a bit, as if to say, _And so?_

“And so,” Richard said, “I’ve decided that you have to come with me. I know you don’t like me very much, but my friends aren’t me and you’ll like _them._ And if you don’t go,” here his voice got quiet, although he kept his arms crossed, “I think you should consider getting a hotel for the rest of the month. Jim can pay for it if you’d like.” 

Severin sat up so suddenly that Richard nearly stumbled back. “That bastard – he’s not paying for anything I have.” 

Richard smiled. “Then you’ll come to the dinner party?” 

Severin looked at him cautiously. “Why would you want me there?” 

“Because it’ll cheer you up,” Richard said. “My friends are nice people.” 

“It won’t,” said Severin, but added, “Why do you - ?” 

“What?” Richard asked. 

Severin shook his head. “Nothing.” 

“So you’ll go?” 

Severin looked up at him. “I’ll need five minutes to get ready.” 

“Erm…” Richard bit his lip. “Do you think…maybe… Maybe you could shower? If you want.” 

Severin’s lips twitched. “That was included in my five minutes.” 

“Well, take as long as you want,” Richard said. “I’ll take an hour to get ready.” 

Severin said nothing. Richard left to get dressed. 

* * * * 

An hour later and a wine bottle in Richard’s arms, the two were ready to go. Richard had given Severin one of Sebastian’s blazers and a pair of his nice jeans. He looked different, less scary, dressed as a civilian, and when Richard first saw him his cheeks went pink. 

It was only because he looked like Sebastian, and Richard obviously liked Sebastian, but Richard couldn’t stop from blurting out, “You look handsome.” 

Severin scanned Richard up and down. Richard pulled at the sleeve of his cardigan self-consciously. “You look like James Moriarty if he had a twin brother who wore stupid sweaters,” Severin said. 

The pink deepened to red. Severin Moran really wasn’t very nice… 

“It’s a cardigan,” Richard said softly. They both left the apartment without saying anything else. 

* * * * 

They took the metro to Richard Moriarty’s friend’s place and sat on opposite sides of the train car. Richard kept picking at strings on his sweater and glancing up at Severin, like he thought Severin wouldn’t notice him. 

The question, of course, was what was fake and what was pretend. Did Richard really think he was being discreet? Or did he want Severin to think he thought he was being discreet? More importantly – what was all this about James Moriarty being a banker? Richard didn’t actually think that, surely. Unless he did. Unless… 

Victim, or pretender? 

Weak, or as conniving as his brother? 

When they got to the friend’s place, Richard took the steps of the stoop two at a time and pressed his finger on the doorbell, smiling broadly when he heard it ring from the inside. He bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. And don’t ask Severin why he noticed any of that, but he did. 

After the bell rang, a terrible moaning came from within. 

Severin put his hand on the doorknob, tensing. “Someone’s being hurt – ” 

“It’s Ingie’s cat,” Richard said. “She mewls when the doorbell’s rung.” 

Severin blinked and then the door was opened. A tall blonde – extremely pretty – opened the door. She had bright red lips – gorgeous – and opened her arms wide when she saw Richard. 

“BROOKIE!” she practically screeched. And she hugged Richard in that way women hug gay guys, and Severin hadn’t thought about it before, but it was suddenly obvious that Richard was gay. Then she pulled away and ruffled up his hair, like he was a little lapdog or something. 

“And who is this?” she said, but she took Severin’s hand before she even knew, and when he tried to shake it she pulled him in for a hug. 

“Severin,” Richard said. “Meet Ingie – Inge, I mean. She’s playing Célimène in our upcoming show. The Misanthrope, that is.” 

“And our little Richie’s playing – ” 

“Alceste,” Severin said, smiling the smile he wore when he didn’t want women to be afraid of him. “I heard him practicing the lines.” 

“You like Moliere, then?” Richard asked. Severin ignored him in favor of following Inge inside; the smell of baked goods and a deep warmth pervaded from inside, while outside the air was frosty. 

Upon entering, Severin was immediately and thoroughly bombarded by Richard’s friends. He knew he’d been in the army too long, but he didn’t realize how he’d forgotten about civilians. They were so warm and loud and immediately trusting. Most of them – including the men – hugged him instead of shaking his hand. 

“Richard’s new beau, I presume?” one, a black-haired man with wireframe glasses, asked. 

“Not remotely,” Severin said. He was trying to make his way down the hall into the living room, where he’d seen Inge go. Inge soon emerged, though. She was wearing a red mini dress with white leggings – very festive, very sexy – but she was getting fur all over her dress by holding up the biggest, fattest, meanest looking cat Severin had ever seen. Severin had seen plenty of mean strays in some of the villages he’d been based in, but this thing looked like it wanted to see the world burn. 

“Before you can officially date our little Richie,” she said, laughing, “you have to see if Pee-pee likes you. Because we don’t trust anyone Pee-pee doesn’t like.” 

She said this like it was something she’d said before, and everyone laughed, like Severin’s being assaulted with an obese, contemptuous feline named after urine was something that happened all the time. 

“Richard’s not my – ” 

“Let Pee-pee smell your hand!” Inge said, holding the cat closer. The cat was kind of smooshed up against her breasts, creating cleavage. Severin reached out his hand, and the cat sniffed. 

“I’m not gay,” he said. He was prepared for the cat to hiss at him, or whack his hand away, but the cat took a few seconds, sniffing, and then rubbed his chin against Severin’s knuckles. 

“Yay!” Inge said. “He likes you!” 

“Yay!” cried Richard’s other friends, a hallway fall of them, and they clapped. 

“Pee-pee’s a good kitty,” Richard said. He reached to pet the cat’s head. The cat seemed to know Richard and began purring immediately upon contact. Severin was surprised by how loudly it purred. Its eyes closed in apparent euphoria, and it parted its frothy mouth – 

“Oh, oops…” Inge said. Before Severin could ask what was going on, Pee-pee began to pee. 

The cat released its bladder all over Sebastian’s jeans, continuing to purr contentedly the entire time, that piece of furry shit. 

“Oh…” Richard said. “Severin, your trousers…” 

Inge put Pee-pee down. “I’m sorry,” she was saying. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. He does that sometimes, but I – ” 

“Sometimes?” Severin asked. “You named him Pee-pee for a reason, didn’t you?” 

Inge smiled at him, looking a bit guilty. “When he pees it just means he likes you a lot. Come into my laundry room and we can wash your jeans. I’ll find something for you to put on.” 

Severin was more than happy to follow Inge – a beautiful, tall woman with long blonde hair and lovely blue eyes – alone into any room. 

As soon as she closed the laundry room door, Severin stepped out of his jeans, hoping the smell of cat piss wasn’t too much of a turn-off for her. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“A boy – ?” 

“Someone whose trousers I could borrow,” Severin said. 

“Oh.” She laughed, trying to look anywhere by at Severin’s legs. He’d seen female soldiers trying not to look at him before, and it meant they really were trying to look at him, but discreetly. Sadly, Inge just seemed to be trying not to look at him. Not exactly the reaction he was expecting. 

“I don’t, but I was thinking…” She rummaged through a laundry basket and pulled out something white. “I was thinking you could tie an apron around yourself?” 

Severin raised his eyebrows. 

“Just while your jeans are in the wash.” 

The eyebrows were raised farther. 

“You’ll be a real catch with the boys,” Inge tried. 

Farther, farther. 

“Unless you meant it when you said you weren’t gay?” Inge said. “You should let us know if you aren’t.” 

He’d mainly said he wasn’t gay for Inge’s benefit, but Inge wasn’t exactly showing interest. He wasn’t gay, of course, but that didn’t mean he didn’t like men. 

“Why should you…?” 

“Because if you _are_ gay, and you’re not dating Richard, then you’ll probably get some attention out there.” She pointed outside to the party. “We’re all in the same theater group, as Rich probably told you.” 

“Yeah…” 

“And we’re all gay,” she said. 

“Oh. Even…?” 

“Me?” She gestured to herself. “Yeah. Even me.” 

Ah, that explained her lack of interest. 

“I’m pretty gay,” he admitted. “I’m gay when I like a guy, straight when I like a girl.” 

Inge laughed. “That’s the way to do it,” she said. And even though he knew she wasn’t interested, Severin still liked the way she smiled. 

* * * * 

The night had gone unexpectedly well. There had been so many people there that he hadn’t had to see the Moriarty brother too much. Everyone was so nice it was a little off putting. They’d teased Severin for wearing an apron – his bottom had received a few well-intentioned pinches – and Pee-pee the cat had ended up settling down on his lap, so that even if he’d wanted to change back into his jeans once they were dry he couldn’t. He could have pushed Pee-pee off, he supposed. But he didn’t. 

And they’d passed out presents (they even had extra ones for guests, these people were _that_ nice, and Severin had gotten some chocolates) and eaten cookies and drank too much wine, and it was very civilian and comfortable and strange. But he’d liked it. 

Richard, once the party started winding down, came into the living room to see him. 

“I’ve ordered a taxi,” he said. “So if you want to go home with me, come outside.” 

Severin met him on the stoop once he’d changed into his jeans and said goodbye to Pee-pee, Inge, and the others. He immediately saw why Rich was taking a taxi home – humming a little loudly, with his cheeks bright red, it was pretty clear Rich had had too much wine. 

Severin had had a good bit of wine himself, but it took a lot to get him drunk. 

Richard was humming very tunelessly. Possibly it was less tuneless in his head, because he was also moving his hand around like he was a conductor. Severin looked away. 

“I didn’t knoooow,” Richard sang, very badly, “that you liked Moliereeee.” 

“Molière,” Severin corrected. He knew his French accent was perfect. 

Richard’s eyes widened. “Do you speak French?” 

“Oui, je devais mémoriser les lignes du Misanthrope quand j'étais un enfant.” 

“Wow,” Richard said, seeming deeply impressed. “Sebastian doesn’t know French.” 

“I’m not Sebastian,” Severin said. 

“Right.” Richard paused, but said quietly, “And I’m not Jim, you know.” 

Severin looked away again. Neither spoke until Richard finally said, “I’ve always wanted to speak French.” 

“Then learn it.” 

“Oh, I know lots of French. I can understand it. But my pronunciation…”

Just then, their taxi arrived. It wasn’t until they were both in the back seat, the taxi driving down the street, that Severin said, if only for fun, “Say something in French.” 

Richard smiled at him. “Only ’cause I’m drunk, but okay: Je pense que…vous etes tres effrayant. C’est pourquoi j’utilise ‘vous’ et pas ‘tu.’” 

Severin cracked up. “Jesus. You sound so…Irish.” 

Richard looked down. “I know.” 

Severin was grinning. “I still understood you, though. You’ve just got a brogue.” 

Richard covered his face with his hands, making a noise of embarrassment. 

Severin reached out, still chuckling. Christ, was he drunker than he thought. “What are you hiding from?” 

He pulled at Richard’s wrists, but Richard kept his arms locked in place. Severin pulled a bit harder; it was cute and funny that Richard thought he stood a chance against Severin. Finally, just to rub it in, Severin took both of Richard’s wrists in one hand and, against the opposing strength of both of Richard’s arms, managed to easily force them down, away from his face. 

Richard was blushing bright red. 

“Can’t cover up your brogue,” Severin teased. 

“Your breath smells like eggnog!” Richard said, dodging away from him. 

Severin leaned down, forcing his face near Richard’s, breathing with an open mouth. 

“Ew…!”

Severin laughed. “And your breath smells like chocolates, Richie!” 

They looked at each other. 

“Richie?” Richie repeated. 

Severin paused, but then said, “Richie. Like you’re a little lapdog.” 

He reached out and ruffled Richard’s hair. Then he leaned forward and – just because he could, because they were both tipsy and what the hell – gave Richard’s lips a kiss. 

When the taxi stopped near Moriarty’s apartment and Severin helped Richie get out, Rich was looking very, very pleased with himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have time to edit this because it's finals week. But comments make finals week worth living. :)


	5. The Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 7th

“Hey, Richie.” Severin startled Richard when he walked through the door – Richard must have been dozing off. But he jumped up when Severin said his name and went, “Severin! Where were you all day?”

“I visited an old friend,” Severin said. He looked completely different from the day before: he was clean-shaven and well-dressed, and he had a smile on that transformed his features. It was a light, carefree smile, one Richard had never seen on Sebastian before. It made Severin look maybe even more handsome than Sebastian. Not that he should be thinking about that – and it wasn’t right to compare people, but… 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Richard asked. 

“Yes,” Severin said. “And what did you do today?” 

Richard shrugged. “Just work. And I was about to start a movie, if you’d wanna watch it…” 

He thought Severin would say no, but he said, “What movie?” and plopped down on the couch next to Rich. He was kicking off his shoes, and Richard wanted to tell him that Jim liked them to take off their shoes by the front door, but he held his tongue. 

“My Fair Lady,” Rich said, suddenly embarrassed by his choice. He looked at the DVD on the table and said, “I always wanted to be Audrey Hepburn as a kid…” 

Severin chuckled. “I see a resemblance.” 

Gosh, he was in a good mood. Richard liked this Severin. 

“You do?” he asked. 

“In the eyes,” Severin said. Then he blinked suddenly, as if he had surprised himself. Richard didn’t know how to ask what he was thinking about. 

“So you’ll watch the movie?” he asked instead. 

“Pop it in,” Severin said. “I’m waiting.” 

* * * * 

There was no denying that Richie was a cute little thing. Cuter than a young Audrey Hepburn, and eons cuter than James Moriarty, who literally made Severin sick. Severin kept glancing over at Rich while he was watching the movie: Rich’s eyes held his instantaneous emotions. Severin could guess at Richard’s thoughts based on the way his eyes would widen, his eyebrows raise. When Audrey Hepburn’s character would get embarrassed onscreen, for instance, Richie would worry at his bottom lip with his teeth, like he was embarrassed for her. And after he was done biting his lip, he’d run his tongue across it, and then sometimes across the upper lip, too... 

Severin was licking his own lips when Richard suddenly turned to him. 

“Severin?” 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t you like the movie?” he asked. 

“Of course I do,” Severin said. 

“But you haven’t been watching it,” Richard said. 

“I’m just a bit tired,” Severin said. “But I like it.” 

“Oh.” Richard seemed satisfied with this answer and went back to watching. And Severin supposed he hadn’t been lying; he really was tired and could, perhaps, just rest his eyes for a bit… 

A warm hand was around his torso, a head resting on his chest. He moved and blinked his eyes open, barely conscious. 

“Sevvy,” Moriarty was saying, nuzzling his head against Severin’s chest. 

Severin stiffened. 

“Get off me,” he said. 

“Huh? – Oh!” 

Severin yanked his arm out from beneath Moriarty’s weight and shoved him away. He took both of Moriarty’s wrists and pinned him to the couch. 

“You think you get to touch me?” he asked roughly. “You think you get to invade my personal space? Do you think I’m like Sebastian, some kind of dog, some kind of _thing_ you get to own? Get the fuck away from me.” 

“Se…Sev…” Moriarty – no, fuck, Richard – blinked up at him, tears coming to his eyes, and it was only now that Severin felt fully awake. 

It was Richard. Only Richard. But was it? He’d called him ‘Sevvy’… 

Unless. Had Severin ever actually seen Richard and James Moriarty in the same room together? And why hadn’t Sebastian said goodbye to him? Was this some kind of perverse, twisted disguise – James Moriarty pretending to be a sweeter, cuter brother, trying to win Severin over – how likely would it be that he, too would have an identical twin, and - 

If this was James, then where had Sebastian gone? 

“Severin, please…” That was Richard – James – still blabbering. 

“Shut up,” Severin growled. He needed to think. He was having crazy thoughts, delusions – 

_Rational_ thoughts? A realization? 

He had no way to get in touch with Sebastian, _if_ Sebastian was around to get in touch with, except – 

“Give me your phone,” he demanded, releasing Moriarty’s wrists and standing. 

Moriarty reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Severin grabbed it and left, locking himself in the bathroom in the hall. 

He dialed Sebastian’s number. 

Seb picked up on the first ring. 

“Richie? You okay?” he said. 

Severin took a deep breath. His head was clearing. Sebastian was alright. 

“It’s me,” he said. 

“Oh. Is Richie with you? Is he okay?” said Sebastian. 

“Yeah, he’s fine. Is Mori – is Jim around? Richard wants to talk to his brother.” 

“Then why isn’t he on the phone?” 

“Is Jim around?” 

“He’s working in the other room. Where’s – ” 

“Put him on the fucking phone, Sebastian,” Severin said. 

He heard Sebastian sigh, then the sound of him getting up and walking across a room, opening a door. The sound of typing. 

Then: “Get out.” Two words, unmistakably Moriarty. Distracted and commanding. Odious. 

Severin ended the call. 

Sebastian was okay. And he couldn’t believe he’d even considered that Richard was Jim. He must have forgotten how loathsome Jim’s voice was; the brothers sounded nothing alike, even if they had used the same nickname. Richard’s ‘Sevvy’ had been sleepy and affectionate; Jim’s was playful, the tone that cats would use if they could talk to their food. 

Severin unlocked the bathroom door and went into the living room. 

It was empty. 

He went back into the hall, calling out Richard’s name. He’d never been in Richard’s room before but he knew where it was, and found it locked. He knocked softly. 

“Richie?” he said. “Can we talk?” 

No response. Except, very quietly, a sniffle. 

“Rich – ” 

The door swung open. Richard was beaming up at him, his eyes red but his face dry of tears. He was bundled up in a scarf and coat. 

“Hello, Severin,” he said brightly. 

“Rich, I’m so sorry – ” 

“Sorry? There’s nothing to be sorry for! I was just going to head over to a friend’s house, if you don’t mind. I’ll be back before dinner, though, so don’t worry about finding something to eat.” Richard spoke quickly and happily. 

“Wait, Richie – ” 

Before he could say anything more, Richard dodged away from him and went down the hallway, toward the front door. Severin couldn’t stop him, so he had no choice but to watch until the front door closed with a resounding thud. 

He returned to the living room and sat on the couch. The DVD had paused on a close-up of Audrey Hepburn’s face, her bright eyes shining. She was beautiful, but no match for Richard. 

And Severin had yelled at him. Unless Richard was actually unaffected, of course. Severin didn’t exactly trust his own perception of reality right now, as he’d just seriously considered that Richard didn’t exist. Maybe he hadn’t yelled after all. Maybe Richard’s crying had just been some terrible nightmare. 

A movement outside the living room’s tall window caught his attention. Richard was walking down the street, head down. 

But to be in view of the window meant that he’d have had to walk around the apartment building, even though that was in the opposite direction of the nearest metro station. And while Severin obviously didn’t know all of Richard’s theater friends, he very much doubted that any of them could afford to live in Jim’s neighborhood. So unless he was very much mistaken, Richard wasn’t visiting a friend at all. 

Severin got up and grabbed his coat. 

* * * * 

It’d been snowing all morning and the sky was still gray. Richard normally came to this park when he felt like relaxing, watching mothers and fathers playing with their children. He liked families. The park was empty right now, though; it was too cold. 

Richie’s hands were freezing, so red and numb that they felt like they would fall off. But it wasn’t like he could have stayed in the apartment, and he was glad the park was empty, because he hated crying in public. But he couldn’t stop his tears. He never could. 

Richard had never once been ashamed of being gay, but he did get very embarrassed when he came on to people who weren’t interested. And he should have realized that Severin wasn’t gay – even if he was, theoretically, there was no reason for him to take interest in Richard. Sebastian, after all, only liked Rich because he looked like Jim, and oh, Rich felt like some kind of pervert, some kind of violating sicko who tried to steal cuddles from sleeping soldiers, like, like – 

“You’re gonna catch cold, Richie.” The voice sounded behind him, and for a moment he thought it was Sebastian, come home early to comfort him. Then something was draped over him like a sheet, and he smelled the heady scent of Severin, and he was suddenly tucked in Severin’s coat. 

Severin walked around to the front of the bench and kicked off a portion of the ice that had formed there. He had solid, military boots. 

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked. 

Richie shook his head. He was leaning down, trying to hide his tears from Severin. Crying seemed to make him angry. 

Severin sat down and reached towards Rich. Rich tensed, but all Severin did was wipe a tear away. 

“Aw, Rich,” Severin said, pulling away. “You don’t have to worry; I would never hurt you. And I’m never going to yell at you again, either.” This made Severin snort. “Christ. ‘Again,’ I say, and I’ve only known you for a week. I sound like some kind of abusive boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” Rich repeated. Would a straight man say something like that? 

“I just mean… I haven’t treated you well. Not at all. And I didn’t mean what I said at the apartment. Or rather…I meant it, but I didn’t mean it towards you. And I’m sorry,” Severin said. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, too,” Rich said. 

“There’s nothing for you to be – ” 

“No, I am,” Rich insisted. “I shouldn’t have tried to cuddle with you, and I won’t do it again. I’m sorry I touched you.” 

“You can touch me,” Severin said. He ran his fingers through Richard’s hair then, bringing warmth to his head. “You can do whatever you like, Rich.” 

Richard wasn’t sure why, but this just made him cry even harder. 

“I-I’m sorry!” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and ducking down. Oh, now he was crying and stuttering all at once. He felt pathetic. 

“Richie, it’s okay,” Severin said. “You can cry. It’s alright.” 

He was leaning over Rich. When Richard opened his eyes he was looking into Severin’s. His breath hitched, and Severin was reaching out to him, running his fingers through Richard’s hair, wiping away his tears as they fell. 

Richard brushed his hand lightly over Severin’s arm, wanting Severin to hold him but still unsure, still half-expecting to get pushed away even as Severin touched him. Instead Severin wrapped his arms around him and – so abruptly that Richard gasped – pulled Richard onto his lap. He swung his own coat around, so that it was cloaked over Richard’s back, and Richard was pressed tight and snug against Severin’s chest, warmed on all sides. 

He wrapped his arms around Severin’s neck and rested his head on Severin’s chest. Severin’s hands rubbed his ears, which had gone numb with cold, and Severin’s chest kept falling and rising steadily. Richard could hear his heartbeat. 

“What did you mean?” Richard asked. 

“Hm?” 

“That you meant what you said, but not to me? To whom, then?” 

Severin’s hands stopped rubbing. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“You felt like you were talking to Jim before, didn’t you?” said Rich. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” 

Richard looked up. Severin had been gazing down at him the whole time. 

“Why?” Richard asked. “Why do you hate my brother so much?” 

Severin took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, Rich, and you weren’t there for any of it. None of it involves you.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Jim took something precious from me, Rich. But I just need to move past that,” Severin said. 

“You mean Sebastian?” Rich asked. He nudged his head against Severin’s hand a bit so that Severin would resume his rubbing. He did, almost unconsciously. 

“Yeah. I mean Sebastian.” 

“But he’s your brother. He can’t be taken from you,” Rich said. “Even if brothers spend years and years and years apart, they’re still more important to one another than anyone else.” 

Severin smiled. “That’s a nice thought, Richie, but I don’t think Sebastian would agree. Did he mention me at all before I came?” 

Richard paused, and the pause was enough for Severin to guess the answer. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I didn’t think so.” 

“That doesn’t mean…” 

“It’s okay, Rich. Sebastian’s moved on, and I will, too.” 

“I don’t think Seb has – but even if he did, that’s not my brother’s fault. Jimmy didn’t _take_ Sebastian from you, Severin,” Rich insisted. 

“He quite literally did, Richie. Did Sebastian ever tell you how he left the army?” 

Richard shook his head. 

“I was discharged. For…” Severin swallowed. “It’s not important now, but anyway. I knew Sebastian had wanted out ever since he’d gotten in, so I let him take the opportunity and leave. We…swapped identities. You’re not to go around telling people this, obviously.” 

“I would never,” Rich said. 

“I let him leave in my place and stayed behind. I was counting on him to begin making a civilian life for the both of us, so that I could leave once my – or his – contract was up. And I came home on leave for the first time since the discharge last Christmas,” Severin said. His fingers found their way down Richard’s jawline, to his chin, and he was getting stroked like a cat. He listened intently. 

“And when you came back,” Richard said, “Jim was there. But that’s still not his – ”

“Jim wasn’t there,” Sev said roughly. “He was away, on work, and Sebastian was thrilled to see me. We spent three days together. Three god damn days, and he told me that Jim would be fine with us – us – that he wouldn’t care if we –” Severin stopped himself and tried again, “He told me Jim wouldn’t be a problem. And when Jim got back, and Sebastian tried to introduce us, Jim ordered Sebastian to kick me out instead.” 

Richard was silent. He clung to Severin tighter. 

“Sebastian didn’t want to, but he did. He’d do anything Jim says. It was three A.M., and I didn’t have time to get my bags, my I.D., my credit card. It was snowing and I had no way to get a hotel.” 

“Did you…?” 

“I went to an old friend’s house. Dalmar. It was a miracle I even found him, but… Jim wouldn’t let Sebastian see me for the rest of my leave. We met briefly at the airport, before I took off. He gave me my things, but Jim was there. Watching us. Making sure Sebastian didn’t cross the line. _His_ line, some kind of psycho boundary that he set for my brother, that my brother’s _scared_ of crossing. And he says he’s not, but I know better. I know Sebastian.” 

* * * * 

Severin hadn’t meant to end on such a bitter note, but he did. He waited for Richard’s defense, for him to say something to try to make his brother sound like the good guy. He waited for the accusations, for the blame. Severin must have done something wrong, surely. This must be his fault. 

Richard sat up so that, with his knees on Severin’s lap, he was at eye level with Severin. He said simply, “That’s sad.” 

He gave Severin’s cheek a kiss, and that was the only reaction that could have possibly made Severin feel okay. 

* * * * 

Jim was between Sebastian’s legs, Sebastian peering over his shoulder. Both of them were staring at Jim’s laptop screen, which was displaying a view brought to them from one of the cameras Jim had installed in the living room. On Jim’s own sofa was Severin Moran, head on one armrest and feet hanging off the opposite armrest. Wrapped in his arms, snuggled against his chest, was Rich. 

Jim snarled in distaste. 

“Richie realizes that’s not you, doesn’t he?” he said. 

“No, boss. He thinks I got a buzz cut and all of my scars have magically disappeared,” Sebastian said. 

“Watch the tone…” Jim said, but there was little threat in his distracted voice; he was leaning forward, as if a closer view would somehow clear up the picture, and he would realize that Rich had not fallen asleep in Severin Moran’s arms, after all. 

“We could go back,” Sebastian suggested. Jim had gotten him to leave in the first place on the insistence that their job in Moscow was very, _very_ important, more important that seeing Severin, but so far they hadn’t done much besides freeze their balls off. 

“Suggest that one more time, Sebastian,” Jim said, in a way that contained more than a little threat. 


	6. No Touching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 8th-14th

The days passed and Severin observed. Richie, he found, was a routine little thing. He would always wake up around eleven and spend the next hour taking a long shower, until the steam seeped through the bathroom door and pervaded through the hallway. He liked big breakfasts; Severin wasn’t used to eating Richard’s wholesome, hearty food, but soon enough he was able to stomach the huge omelets Richie would make him, with their cheddar and broccoli, tomato and asparagus. Cute little Richie, who was brother to the carnivorous shark of London, was a vegetarian; despite this, he offered to make Severin sausages or bacon every morning, always looking relieved when Severin declined. 

Then he would leave for rehearsals. He usually didn’t come back until late at night. Although Severin was accustomed to an earlier sleep time, he’d wait up, if only for the pleasure of seeing the smile Richard got when he first saw Sev; he would wrap his arms around Severin’s neck and cry out his new nickname, which Severin supposed was better than ‘Sevvy.’ 

“Rinny!” he would say, like they’d been apart for weeks instead of hours. Despite being the one returning from work, he greeted Severin like a dog greets his master. Richie: The perfect little lapdog. 

Afterwards, the perfect little lapdog would go take his bath, which lasted ages. Severin could see why Richard liked the French; Richard loved taking his time. And then he would come into the living room some time later, always in adorable flannel pajamas that made him look about twelve. He and Sev might watch a movie – always Richie’s pick – which really just meant that they were going to cuddle for at least two consecutive hours. 

Severin wasn’t certain what Richard meant by the excessive touching. Perhaps it was merely convenient that Richard was missing Sebastian and a Sebastian look-alike happened to be right there; perhaps he meant something else by it. Severin didn’t care. All he knew was that he loved the way Rich’s hair was as soft as feathers against his fingertips, or the way Richard would sometimes rest his head in Severin’s lap, nuzzling it, and small noises from his throat would emerge. It was as cute as it was arousing, always making Severin think of what could happen if he just pulled down his zipper, and if Richard nudged his head up just a little… 

Most nights, needless to say, ended with Richard going to bed and Severin going to release his tensions into a tissue in the bathroom. But it was a small price to pay, for spending so much time with Rich. 

* * * * 

One night Severin came home late to find Richard asleep on the couch. When Severin tried to wake him, Rich groaned and swatted at him. 

“Sleeping…” he muttered. 

“Get up, Richie. Time for bed,” Severin said. And if there was a perversion in the way Severin sometimes spoke to Rich like he was a child, Rich didn’t seem to notice it and Severin wasn’t in the mood to analyze it. 

“Uh-uh. Too tired,” Rich insisted, eyes still closed. 

“I’m tired too, Rich,” Severin said. “Get up and go to bed, so I can go to mine.” 

“Mm…” Richard ducked his head beneath a pillow. “Sleep in my bed. So…tired…” 

He yawned, chest rising and falling slowly, and Severin eventually left him. He opened the door to Richard’s room, feeling eager. He’d never been in Rich’s room, but as soon as the door was creaked open he smelled the delicious, cinnamon scent of potpourri. He closed the door behind him – Richard had turned on a space heater in the bedroom, so the room was cozy and warm. 

The room was completely different from the rest of the apartment. Whereas everything else in the house looked modern and expensive, picked out just so by an immaculate man with immaculate taste, Richard’s room was homey. He felt like he had just stepped into a country ranch. The walls were lined with tall brown bookshelves, and crammed on every shelf and in every corner was a book. He spent a considerable amount of time brushing his fingers over the spines of Richard’s books, taking note of how he had organized them, which ones looked creased and well-loved. His hand rested for a full minute when he found Richard’s French edition of all seven volumes of _À la recherche du temps perdu._ He really did know French. 

It wasn’t until after Severin had stripped out of his trousers and shirt that he noticed, on the bedside table, a steaming mug of… He picked it up and sniffed. Hot cocoa. 

So hot that it must have been made recently. Far too recently for Richard to be “so tired” he couldn’t possibly get up and go to his own bed. 

Severin smiled, taking a sip of the drink. It was sweet and delicious, although perhaps tinged with an aftertaste of dishonesty. That little liar. Tricking Severin into finally taking the bed, which he’d been trying to get him to do for ages. 

It was good to know that while both of the Moriarty’s had a manipulative streak, Richard tended to trick people into sleeping in cozy beds and drinking hot cocoa. Even when he was showing his darker side he was still adorable. 

Fuck, Severin wanted to fuck him. He probably thought that thought five thousand times a day, but it wasn’t exactly getting him anywhere. He was pretty certain Sebastian was fucking Richard, but he wasn’t sure if that meant Richard thought of Severin as being off-limits or even more _on_ -limits. And he seemed so sweet and innocent, in fact, that Severin couldn’t really imagine him fucking anyone. He could, however, easily picture Richard blinking his eyes confusedly at the suggestion. 

_What’s “fucking?” What do you mean, Rinny?_

Severin lifted Richard’s duvet. Oh, Christ, the bed was going to smell like him; he was about to be surrounded with Richard’s sweet, mouthwatering scent… 

One hand reached for his cock as his other hand fumbled for the light on the bedside table, flicking it off. He wasn’t going to masturbate between Richard’s sheets. That would just be sick. He was just going to give himself a few strokes. Richard’s scent had already made him so hard… 

_Let me show you what I mean, Rich._

Mm… Fuck, this wasn’t working. 

He got out of Rich’s bed and tiptoed – so as to not wake Rich, who was probably deep in a legitimate sleep by now – out into the hall. He went into the bathroom and continued his fantasies there, tissues in hand. 

But it was no matter: by the time he awoke in the early hours of the morning, the sunlight just beginning to creep in through Richie’s windows, he found that his hand was on his cock and both his hand and cock were covered in come. It was only luck that not much of it had leaked through his briefs. 

He fantasized about Richard being twelve. But he wasn’t acting like more than a boy himself. 

* * * * 

The next night: 

“Oh, Rinny…” The little one faked a little yawn, eyes closed so that he didn’t see Severin’s smirk. “I’m far…far too tired to get up. I’ll take the couch again… Just… Oh!”

Severin pulled Richard up easily, throwing him over his shoulder. 

“Nice try, Richie, but your back will hurt if you sleep on the couch again,” Severin said. Richie squirmed in his arms all the way down the hall, but Severin didn’t let him down until he was in the bedroom. Richard landed on his mattress with a _plop,_ looking a little frazzled. Severin ruffled up his hair and leaned down, kissing his forehead. 

“Sweet dreams,” he said, and began to make his way out of the room. 

“Oh, Severin!” Rich said, grabbing his wrist. Severin paused. “Don’t leave. Look, I made you tea tonight.” He pointed to the bedside table. “I know how you like your tea now. With lots of honey…” 

“So it’s sweet,” Severin said, amused. “Almost as sweet as you, Richie. Why don’t you drink it?” 

“Let’s share.” Richard pouted. “Please? My bed’s big enough for two. Sebastian can fit in it with me just fine.” 

Severin blinked. “You want me to sleep with you?” 

Richard’s cheeks burned red. “I-I w-w-wa-wassssn’t im-implying any-any – ” 

It was rare Richard lapsed into stuttering around Severin these days, but god, Severin loved it when he did. He took a moment to just admire Rich, and how his lips quivered sensually on his W’s, the way his tongue got stuck between his teeth on his S’s, revealing just the slightest, most kissable sliver of pink… 

Fuck, he wanted to fuck Richard. 

Severin put a finger on Rich’s lip and pressed his free hand flat against Rich’s chest, pushing him against the mattress. He got onto the mattress himself, straddling Richard, and he pressed his hands against the mattress on either side of Richard’s head. Richard’s lovely cheeks had gone from red to scarlet. 

“I’ll spend the night with you, Richie,” he said. “And I won’t even make any dirty jokes about it, either. I won’t, for instance, suggest that you only want me in your bed because you really want Sebastian in your bed. We both know, of course – well, I suppose you don’t know, but I’m sure you can guess from just looking at me – that I’m much better in bed than Sebastian, and obviously the better choice. But I won’t even talk about that. I’ll just roll safely to the other side of the mattress, and I won’t touch you at all.” He ran his fingers through Richard’s hair, then ran four, splayed fingers from the top of Richard’s forehead down to his neck, which Richard always liked. 

Richard giggled, still blushing. 

“Good,” he whispered, looking up at Severin. “In that case, I definitely won’t kiss you or anything like that. That-that wouldn’t be appro…” He bit his bottom lip, flustered and frustrated, not noticing the way Severin couldn’t take his eyes from Richard’s lips. “Appropriate,” he finished meekly, and then leaned up to kiss Severin’s left cheek, and then his right. 

“Oh, of course,” Severin said solemnly. “No kissing allowed.” He took Richard’s cheeks between his hands and kissed all along Richard’s jawline, from his ear to his chin, then on the other side. Richard gave an involuntary shiver. 

“No joking, touching, or kissing,” Rich reiterated. “And we’ll definitely sleep as far away as possible, and we’ll keep all of our clothes on. So that you definitely won’t do anything, like…like take off your shirt, maybe.” 

“Oh, of course not,” Severin agreed, sitting up so that he could more easily push his T-shirt over his head. 

“Wow,” Richard said in a breathless kind of way as Severin tossed the shirt to the floor. Rich sat up so that he was facing Severin, his eyes never leaving Severin’s chest. Severin knew he had an impressive build, but he’d been certain that Rich was so used to seeing Sebastian that it wouldn’t be any great surprise. Going by Richard’s face, though, he was not at all disappointed. Severin grinned, pleased with himself. 

Rich began reaching out slowly, almost unconsciously, before he caught himself. Then he looked up at Severin, “No touching or kissing. And absolutely no licking, right?” 

“Absolutely not,” Severin said sternly. 

Richard’s hand was trembling when he grazed the skin, lightly, near Severin’s heart. He looked up. 

“No scars,” he said. His voice was filled with a very flattering wonder. 

“Nearly none,” Severin corrected, but Richard was already distracted again. He seemed unsure of where, exactly, he could touch. It dawned on Severin that Richard might not be given free reign so often. But then, when Severin didn’t stop him, Richard’s mouth was suddenly at Severin’s neck. 

“Mm…” His mouth was soft and warm, leaving the lightest, most pleasant nibbles. Severin closed his eyes, hands reaching for Richard’s hair. It felt like Richard was trying to touch every last centimeter of his bare skin; his mouth moved down, to his chest, lower, pecking kisses, sucking lightly on his nipple. 

“Ooh…”Severin breathed. He hadn’t been aware of the noises he’d been making, but suddenly Richard pulled away and smiled shyly up a him.

“It’s a good thing I only want you because you’re so much like Sebastian,” he said matter-of-factly. “Otherwise I’d be put off by how you make all the same noises Seb makes.” 

“Oh, yes.” Severin laughed. “I forgot how loud he is in bed.” 

Richard giggled, brushing a hand down his chest, tracing his abs. “Hm… I think I’ve heard him groan maybe twice. And one time I think it was out of pain. And not even the good kind of pain.” 

“What do you know about the good kind of pain?” Severin asked, half teasing, half serious. 

“I know lots of things!” said Rich. 

“Oh, yeah? We’ll see about that, little one.” Severin was leaning down for a kiss when Richard stopped him with a hand to the shoulder. 

“What do you mean,” Richard said, “‘how loud he is in bed?’ How would you…?” 

Severin cursed. “I…” 

Strangely, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Rich. But he couldn’t bring himself to confirm the truth, either, and make Rich sick. It was better, though, for Rich to figure this out now. A lump formed in Severin’s throat. 

“Have you been in bed with Sebastian, Rin…?” Richard prompted. 

Severin swallowed. He felt sick, like he was losing the greatest thing he had ever had before even fucking getting it. Like everything, every single fucking thing that mattered, was snatched away from him. He pushed himself away from Rich. 

“Oh, Severin… This is wonderful news!” Not seeming to notice that Severin was on the verge of a crisis, Rich threw himself at Severin, wrapping his arms around him. 

Severin didn’t say anything, didn’t ask any questions. It didn’t matter why he wasn’t running, only that he wasn’t. Sev held him. 

“I…I like Jim, Severin. I like Jim the way you like Sebastian,” Richard said. 

“Does Jim treat you well?” For some reason, before shock, this was Severin’s first thought. 

“Mhm,” Richard hummed. 

“And you…you like…you fuck your brother.” Severin was the one with the stammer, now. 

People had had plenty of reactions to hearing about Severin and Sebastian, ranging from disgust to tolerance to arousal. But never did he expect someone to say, “Oh, how swell! I fuck my brother, too!” 

_He fucked his brother, too._

It was an entirely different level of understanding, and suddenly Severin was seeing layers and layers, how unlikely it was to meet Richard, another incestuous twin, at all; how fucking Jim must be a lot like fucking Sebastian – both so dominating and controlling; Richard had probably had his fair deal of that. He understood. He understood Severin. Like fucking – like fucking stars were aligning. No. This went beyond any cliché. 

When Rich had said, “That’s sad,” in the park, it was because he knew – or could imagine, more accurately than anyone else in the world – what, precisely, it was like to be torn apart from the older brother that fucked you. 

Richard and Severin were the same. 

Richard was saying, “Oh! I don’t know if I’d use that word, but – ” 

Severin was having none of it. He said, “You fuck your fucking twin brother, you beautiful… Fuck.” His words were interrupted by the kisses he couldn’t stop himself from planting all over Richard’s lips, his chin, his cheeks, his eyelids, his hair. “You’re perfect. You’re perfect. You’re perfect. You are a perfect person, Richard. Richard, holy… I don’t even know what to say. I love you.” It was true. Suddenly, undeniably true. Might as well get it out there. 

“You…?” 

“I love you.” 

“Oh, Rin…” The little lapdog, the little ball of emotion, he started to cry. Severin laughed and kissed him, and Richard kissed him back, lips wet with tears. They held each other. 

They’d been intending to do one thing but this had happened instead, and this would lead to things infinitely better. 


	7. Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 15th

Severin woke up the next morning with a growing sensation of euphoria in his chest. He wasn’t sure why until he felt Richard sleeping against him. He didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move. No need to wake Richard when all he wanted was to feel Richard breathing against him. 

* * * * 

They’d spent all day together. Severin had gone with Richard to Rich’s rehearsals, aware that he was following him like a love-struck puppy. He kept waiting to be shooed, to get a kick in the ribs. On the metro ride back, the train was crowded and Richard was backed up against a door. Severin stood over him, creating a wall so that strangers wouldn’t push or nudge Rich with their elbows and purses. For ten or so minutes Severin could feel Richard’s breath on his neck. 

Every public, dirty-sex-on-the-metro fantasy went through his mind, but he contained himself. Severin was in a weird limbo, stuck between being unable to separate from Richard and trying to not come off as desperate. He’d never been called clingy in his life – just the opposite. (Except by Sebastian, but he didn’t count.) And he’d certainly never told anyone, in any context, that he loved them. 

(Except maybe Sebastian, when they were both drinking. But he couldn’t remember clearly, so that didn’t count.) 

* * * * 

Richard was curled up against him in an armchair, reading a book. Severin couldn’t have read a book, watched a movie, done anything that required the least bit of concentration. All of his focus was caught up on Richard. 

He was utterly infatuated. Thinking of every nonsense love poem he’d ever had to read in school, of every promise any of his partners had ever tried to make him say. 

_Yes, Rich, of course I’ll spend the rest of my life with you._ His fingers stroked through Richie’s soft hair, and Rich just kept reading, either oblivious to Severin’s obsession or passively accepting it. Not returning it, Severin was certain, but he appreciated not being outright rejected. _Yes, love, of course I’d never leave you. Yes, of course I love you more than anyone else, more than I ever thought I could. Of course I’ll stay. Yes, yes, I love you…_

He was making himself sick. But, oh, Richard Brook… 

Richard folded the page he was on. Severin watched the way his hand slid over the page, making a neat crease. Then he closed the book and put it on the armrest, and tried to get up. 

Severin wrapped his arms around him. “Nope,” he said. “No leaving.” 

He hoped his voice sounded light and teasing, instead of desperate and insane. Apparently it did, because Richard laughed. He said, “I have to go to the bathroom.” 

Oh. That wouldn’t take too long. 

But Severin kept up the tease. He kissed Richard’s shoulder and worked his way down Rich’s arm, kissing down to his fingertips. Then he started at the other shoulder and did the same. “Too bad,” he said. 

But he released him. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Be quick, I’ll miss you.” 

He cringed at himself, but Rich didn’t seem to notice. Then he was gone. 

Severin tried to be patient – wasting time by reading the summary of Rich’s book, drinking the tea Rich had left on the coffee table. But Rich was taking too long. Worried thoughts invaded his mind; excuses, really, to get up. What if Rich had a bellyache? What if he needed Severin for something? 

Severin finally went to the bathroom. He pressed his ear against the door – just to make sure Rich was alright, of course. 

His heart sunk when he heard water running. Richard was taking a bath. Was he trying to get a break from Severin? 

Severin knew he was acting crazy, but he couldn’t tear himself from the bathroom door. His hand was resting uselessly on the doorknob. He knew he should leave, go back to the living room. Maybe leave the apartment entirely, give Richard some breathing space. So what the hell was he doing? Why couldn’t he direct his feet away from the door? 

“Rinny? Is that you?” Oh, but his voice was so sweet. 

“You okay in there?” Severin asked. 

“I’m taking a bath. Come in!” 

Severin sighed in relief – not looking for a break, after all – and he stepped in. The bathroom mirror was cloudy with steam. And on the other side of the bathroom was the ridiculous jacuzzi. Severin had never been in it, always opting for the shower instead. He saw no reason to waste his time with the innumerable spigots and taps and soap bottles. Jim fucking Moriarty kept his various soaps in glass bottles that looked like they were meant for ladies’ perfume. Richard, though, apparently liked it: the water was filled up to the brim of the jacuzzi, which was considerably deep, rather a small swimming pool, and the bubbles were brushing the tub’s brim. Richard smiled at him, bubbles popping at his chin. His smile was so fucking – god, Severin really needed to think of a word other than ‘cute.’ But it did things to him. 

“I thought I told you to be quick,” Severin teased. 

“I know, but…” Rich pouted. Ooh, fuck, that pout. “I wanted a bath.” 

“And Richie takes what Richie wants,” Severin said, “doesn’t he?” 

Richard giggled. “Come take a bath with me.” 

Severin didn’t need to be told twice. He began tearing – literally tearing, at first; he’d forgotten how to take clothes off properly – at his shirt, kicking off his boots at the same time. He was naked in record time, really, but when he looked at Richie he saw that he was covering his eyes. 

“You hiding your eyes, Riche?” Severin said, keeping the disappointment out of his voice fairly well. 

Rich smiled sheepishly from beneath his hand. “I didn’t think you’d want me to look.” 

“Do you _want_ to look?” Severin asked. As if the question meant nothing to him. 

“Do you want me to want to look?” Richard said. 

“Do you want me to want you to want to look?” Severin teased. He lifted a leg over the bathtub brim and dipped in. The water was hot, and everything smelled like some kind of berry. 

“Do you want me to want you to want me to – oh…” Richard had uncovered his eyes and, although Severin was mostly hidden by the bubbles, Severin was pleased to see the way Richie’s eyes fell upon his shoulders. His lips were parted beautifully. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Severin said. 

All Richie had to do was nod, and then Severin was on him. 

He hadn’t meant to, but he was suddenly kissing Rich the way countless partners had told him not to since the time he was thirteen. But it was the way he liked kissing, the way his mouth instinctively moved, the way that felt _honest_. 

Regardless, he backed away. He didn’t want to completely turn off Richard with his tongue. And if he concentrated, he could actually kiss very well. In a way that didn’t involve trying to lick every part of the other person. 

As soon as he moved to break the kiss, though, Richard’s hands were around his neck, pulling him back. 

_Okay, then._ His tongue slid across Richard’s bottom lip, and he took note of the way Richard shivered, of his little, breathy moans. He smiled and let his tongue dart across Richie’s chin, testing what would and wouldn’t put him off. 

“Ooh…” Richie breathed. His chest was rising and falling beneath the water, in time with those little breaths. Severin pressed his hand against Rich’s chest to feel them. 

His mouth was at Rich’s neck – and Rich liked that, but of course he liked that, everyone liked that. So he moved to Rich’s ear instead, tongue very carefully outlining it, teeth nipping. Rich wasn’t put off in the least, not even when Severin’s tongue got maybe a little too intrusive. 

Ooh, fuck. Richard Brook liked Sev’s weird tongue-kissing and he was perfect, perfect, perfect. 

Severin kept his delight to himself, instead rewarding Rich’s neck. 

“Your neck is gorgeous,” Severin said, fingers tracing down its length. He could say this, at least. Complimenting a partner’s body didn’t mean so much. 

Rich just hummed and leaned his head back, elongating his neck even more, giving Severin more space to bite, nibble, suck, kiss, lick. He would love Rich’s neck until it was black and blue from his loving. Until Richard would have to go everywhere in one of his cute knitted scarves, until every time he looked in the mirror he couldn’t help but think _Severin._

Because oh, more than anything Severin wanted Richard to think of him. 


	8. Like Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 16th

“Rinny…” Small fingers were stroking his cheek, over his lips. “Rinny, wake up.” 

Keeping his eyes closed, he stuck out his tongue and licked Rich’s fingers. Rich went, “Oh!” with surprise and, as Severin opened his eyes, fell back. Severin grinned. 

“Good morning,” he said. And then he realized: It was morning. Very, very early morning, if he hadn’t woken up on his own yet. Why would Richie be awake? 

And not only awake, but fully dressed. He was in a knitted sweater and jeans. The sweater had snowflakes and trees stitched into it, and Severin couldn’t help himself, Rich just looked so boyish and cute: he reached out and yanked Richie towards him, forcing him to topple over, and Severin messily found Richie’s lips, and kissed him. Rich was laying awkwardly on his side, half across Severin’s chest, arms in an uncomfortable position, but he managed to kiss back well enough. 

“Mmm… You need to…mm…come…” Richard shifted so that he was on his stomach, chest pressed against Severin’s chest. Much better. 

“I do need to come,” Severin said. 

“Oh! No!” Richie went red. “You need to…oh, Severin…” Severin pulled his face close again, mouth greedy for Rich’s. “Mm…just…come to get a…Christmas…mm…tree...”

Richard seemed to dissolve into him, and Severin could feel him getting hard against him. Severin had been aching since he’d woken up, but that was his normal state in the morning. And Rich, being short and small, wasn’t far down enough to feel him. 

The entire night before had been spent in a lip-lock after Severin had discovered that he’d finally found a partner who enjoyed kissing as much as – or maybe even more than – him. Severin ran his tongue over the roof of Rich’s mouth now, where he knew it tickled. 

By the time Severin released him, Rich was panting. His lips were red and wet. 

“I could eat you up,” Severin said. 

“Ooh…” Richie planted his face against Severin’s chest, his hot breath puffing against Severin’s skin. “Yes, please.” 

“Look at you,” Severin teased, stroking a finger down the back of Richie’s neck, just for the pleasure of watching him shiver. “So polite.” 

Richie’s cock was fully hard now, he could feel it. So he continued: “Is that what you want? For me to eat you up?” 

He slid out from under Rich and flipped Rich over, so he was on his back. Richie was so good, always so compliant. And pliant, too. Severin worked his fingers under the hem of Richie’s sweater, untucking his undershirt from his jeans. He moved slowly in case Richie wanted him to stop; they hadn’t really touched each other before, not like this. 

Richie only watched, a soft smile on those pretty bruised lips. Rich lifted his arms so Severin could pull the sweater over his head. Off came the undershirt in the same way, and finally, with no bubble bath or troublesome clothes to hide him, Richard’s torso was bare. 

“Beautiful…” Severin breathed. Richard’s skin was milky white and flawless. The perfect playing ground for Severin’s eager mouth. His little ribcage showed through his bare skin, and under his collarbone Severin could see light blue veins. He pressed his hand flat over Richard’s chest; Richard’s heart was beating fast as a scared rabbit’s, although Severin knew it wasn’t fright that affected him. 

“Eat you right up,” Severin said. “To save you from having to make me breakfast, of course.” 

He leaned down and began to kiss Richard’s chest, while his fingers unzipped his trousers. 

* * * *

“Oh…what are you…?” Richard started. Rin tugged at the waistline of his jeans and Richard lifted his hips, making it easier for Rin to strip him. Rin’s fingers were rough and felt good against his bare skin. He wasn’t quite sure, though, what Rin was planning on doing. 

He watched as Severin ridded him of his briefs; he normally got a bit shy in front of each new partner he had, but Severin was looking at him so intensely, with such unmistakable, molten desire, that he felt only a little disarmed. 

And then Severin was spreading his legs gently, sliding his fingers down them, from Richard’s inner thighs, where it tickled and made his cock throb, to the backs of his knees, to his calves. While Sebastian was gentle, even he wasn’t as gentle as Severin was right now. And Richard had thought of him as the rough brother. How wrong he’d been. 

He was trying not to moan as Severin’s hands and lips explored him. He didn’t want, this first time, for Severin to know how loud and eager he could get. Possibly Severin wouldn’t hear him regardless, as Severin was narrating every touch with a stream of lecherous compliments and confessions. Some were oddly sweet, though Richard didn’t take those bits to heart – Severin seemed the type to confess undying love to every person in his bed. 

“Can’t wait to see your gorgeous face when you come, little one. Gonna make you feel so, so good… Almost as good as I feel just from looking at you.” 

Severin was near the foot of the bed, and with one, gentle hand, he lifted Richard’s foot, bringing it to his mouth. First he popped in Rich’s big toe, and suckled, and then worked his way down the line. It was strange and intimate, and for a moment Richard wanted to pull back, self-conscious, but then Severin murmured, “Do you scrub each little toe with soap, Richie? You taste so clean,” and so Rich leaned back and enjoyed it. 

Even when Severin made it between his thighs again, he didn’t rush for Richard’s cock. He took Richard’s balls into his mouth, sucking lightly, painting them with wet kisses. Richard bit his lip, trying hard not to let any noise escape. 

As soon as Severin first popped Richard’s cock into his mouth, he was a goner. 

“Oh, oh, Rin, please.” His mouth was moving and he couldn’t stop it. His fingers dug into the sheets. “Oh, god – oh!” 

Severin’s tongue slid into Rich’s slit, then circled his tip. He shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle his moaning, but Severin reached up and pulled it out. 

“Sing to me, baby,” he said, precome and saliva staining his lips. The sight had Rich wiggling his hips. Severin held him in place, strong hands on either side of him, and then he took him entirely into his mouth. Richard gasped – Rin had no trouble with it at all. He could feel himself in Rin’s throat, and it was so tight, and warm, and wet. 

“Rin, Rin, it feels so good. Rin, please, please, please!” He didn’t know what he was saying, it didn’t matter. Severin’s mouth was hot and persistent around him, and in just moments: “Oh – oh! Rinny, I’m gonna – gonna come, ooh…”

He didn’t mean to come – it couldn’t have been more than five minutes since Severin first took him in his mouth. But no matter how he squirmed, Severin kept up the stimulation. Richard half-expected the pleasure to stop or slow, but it didn’t, and it was too much. He couldn’t contain himself; it was too fucking good. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and his eyes were rolling, his fingers weaving through his own hair, fist in his mouth. 

He came inside Severin. 

When he recovered, eyelids flicking open, he saw Severin positioned between his legs, lips dripping with Richard’s load. He could tell that Rin’s mouth was full of his come. Strangely, he thought of the laundry he’d have to do later, when Severin spat it out on his duvet. 

Then Severin swallowed, his resulting grin pleased and gratified. Richard’s heart pounded. 

Severin licked his lips, and blinked. “You’re sweet,” he said, sounding surprised. “That’s the sweetest come I’ve ever tasted.” 

Richard was weak and shaky, but he said, “I’m a vegetarian?” 

Severin laughed, and crawled on top of him, making his way to his lips. He kissed him, and Rich kissed back tiredly. And oh, this was wonderful, Severin was taking him into his arms, as if he knew that Rich wanted nothing more than a cuddle. He felt sleepy and blissful. 

“What a little screamer you are,” Severin said. “And I never thought I’d hear little Richie curse, but I should have known: all it took was a good suck.” 

Rich couldn’t remember cursing, but said in a feeble defense, “It felt so good.” 

Severin chuckled. “I’ve had some practice.” 

But it was more than the blowjob itself that had felt good. This had felt _especially_ good because, because – he wasn’t sure if he should be telling Severin; he barely knew him, after all. But suddenly it was pouring out regardless. 

“No one’s ever…ever…” Rich closed his eyes, tucking his head into Severin’s neck, beneath his chin. “Ever…done that to me, before.” 

A pause. Then, “Done what? Not – you don’t mean that no one’s ever sucked your cock, do you?” 

Rich nodded up against him. 

_“Ever?”_ Severin sounded shocked. 

“Not since I was a teenager.” Rich shrugged, pulling away to see Rin’s face. Oddly, he looked angry. 

“But your gorgeous, pink, little cock. It practically looks like candy,” Sev said. “And you practically _taste_ like candy. Your cock was made to be adored. And no one’s ever… Fucking idiots.” 

“Rin!” 

“My fucking brother’s an idiot. And Jim. And anyone else who’s ever known you. Your cock has been _wasted_ on jackasses,” Severin said, and released a stream of curses that didn’t end until Richard went, “Rinny! Please!” 

“Fine,” Rin said. “But while I’m here, just know: that little cock of yours is getting milked for all it’s worth. I want your come for all my breakfasts. And my lunches and dinners. I want you in my mouth as often as you can manage. I want your cock as my gorgeous, fucking sucktoy.” 

He couldn’t help himself; it must have been the roughness in Severin’s voice. As if on cue, Rich’s cock began to stir again. Severin noticed immediately. 

“So soon?” 

Rich’s cheeks burned again. “I…I can come a lot.” 

Severin’s lips spread. His eyes gleamed, and he looked like the cat who had caught the canary. 

“I can suck a lot,” he said happily. 

Rich squirmed, wrapping his hands around Severin’s neck and reaching up for a kiss, as Severin reached down to stroke him, bringing him to full hardness again. Richard said, simply, “Yes, please.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anyone who cares: this is a universe of my making, meaning that no one needs condoms because STDs and unwanted pregnancies are nonexistent, Richard gets to have a remarkably short refractory period, the Morans get to ejaculate cups of semen. and apparently everyone is gay. woo ~


	9. Unwrap Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 16th: Evening

The Christmas tree towered over Rich, nearly as tall as Severin. Severin had carried it home on his back after Rich picked it out, and he observed now with not a little satisfaction that green needles were already sprinkling the carpet, spoiling Jim Moriarty’s otherwise spotless apartment. Richard didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy placing everything just as he liked it. Severin had tried helping him decorate, but each time he picked up an ornament Rich simply smiled at him and took his hand, guiding it lightly to where he wanted the ornament to go. Quite a bossy little thing, in an understated way. So Severin had left him to it. 

There wasn’t much time for Christmas trees in the army. The last real tree he could remember was the enormous one that sat in the halls of Oxford every December. Its ornaments had always been placed on symmetrically, the tinsel wrapped around evenly. Richard, despite the apparent thought put into the placing of each ornament, seemed to have no particular design in mind. In fact, the tree was completely haphazard, but in a homey, lovable kind of way. 

Finally, there was the star. Severin amused himself by watching Richard struggle with it. Richard was wearing a raggedy red sweater that he must have knitted himself a long time ago; the neck was very wide, so that it slid down and showed off his pale shoulders, and the thread had thinned in certain areas, giving Severin glimpses of bare skin, bare nipple. His neck was completely bare, displaying beautifully all of Severin’s love bites. Topping it off, Richard wore tight, red briefs that perfectly hugged his gorgeous arse. 

Decorating Christmas trees wasn’t so bad. 

“Rinny, could you help? I’m not…tall enough…” Rich was on his toes, tongue between his teeth. He reached up one more time and the loose sweater slid down his back, revealing a pair of perfectly formed shoulder blades. Severin spotted something. 

“Of course, babe.” Severin took the star for Richard and planted it easily on the top of the tree. Richard clapped. 

“Thank you, Rin!” he said, giving Severin a hug. 

“Mhm. But I think I’ve earned a reward now, don’t you?” 

“A – a reward?” 

“Ah.” Severin took Rich by the shoulders and easily spun him around, looking down at his back. “Here we go. My reward.” 

“What are you – oh.” Rich’s voice turned pleased as he felt Severin’s mouth on him, kissing the freckle he had on his left shoulder blade. “That.” 

“Cutest freckle I’ve ever seen,” Severin said. He gave it another kiss, his fingers running down Rich’s spine. Rich was mid-shiver when he said, suddenly, “Rin, stop.” 

Severin pulled away. “Something wrong, Richie?” 

“I’m thirsty,” Rich said. “Can you…?” 

Severin wasn’t sure how, but lately he seemed to have been designated the new tea-brewer of the house. Not that he minded. 

“Of course, baby,” he said. He left for the kitchen, wondering if it was really tea Richard so urgently needed, or if Richard just didn’t want Severin to touch him anymore. Severin’s heart sank. Had he rushed Rich this morning? He hadn’t meant to, but he’d never had such a delicate and sensitive partner, either. Maybe he just wasn’t made for men like Rich… 

The thought brought him nothing short of pain, but he returned to the living room with two steaming mugs of tea a few minutes later. He set down the mugs, and it took him a moment to spot Rich. 

Rich was sitting on the floor beside the tree. He’d abandoned his sweater in exchange for a red ribbon that he must have just tied around his neck. On top of his head was a little red bow, perfect for a present. In terms of actual clothes, he wore nothing but his red briefs. His hands were in his lap and there was a little, suppressed smile on his lips, as he waited for Severin very nicely. 

“My, my,” Severin said, stepping towards him. “Is this for me?” 

Richard’s smile twitched, threatening to split into a grin. 

“What a pretty little present,” he teased, squatting on his knees so that he was more at level with Rich. “Too bad I have to wait until Christmas to open it…” 

Richard’s smile disappeared. “Oh, no. It should be opened right now!” 

“Well, look at that. The pretty little present talks,” Sev said. “And what’s that? It wants to be opened _now?”_

“Unwrap me,” Rich said. His cheeks with flushed and he pouted so cutely. Severin nearly pounced on him right then. 

“And break all the Christmas rules?” Severin whispered. He reached out and took Richard’s chin in his hand. Rich’s skin was hot. 

“Uh-huh…” Rich breathed. To Severin’s satisfaction, he became slightly dazed when he looked Severin in the eyes. “Unwrap me, please.” 

“Since you ask so nicely… Of course, I can’t unwrap you here.” 

“Huh?” 

“What if someone caught me? That’d be terrible. No, it’d be much safer in the bedroom,” Severin said. He reached out and took Rich in his arms, carrying him bridal-style down the hall. “Much, much safer.” 

He kicked open the door and put Rich on the bed. Standing over him, he made a quick job of popping off the bow on Rich’s head and pulling off his briefs. Rich was half hard already. 

“Unwrap me, unwrap me,” Richie kept whispering. Severin’s fingers brushed Rich’s neck. He admired the marks he’d adorned on Rich for a moment before pulling at the ribbon around his neck, letting it come undone. Once it was in his hands, though, Severin pulled back. 

“I can’t do this,” he said suddenly, feigning a frown. 

“Ooh…” Rich pouted. He knew Severin was just teasing, but he seemed to be getting eager. 

“I need to wait until Christmas,” Severin said. “I need to wrap you back up. Where did this ribbon go?” 

He finally got on the bed, straddling Rich, and in one, quick movement he pulled Rich’s arms behind his back and held his wrists together. 

“Did the ribbon go here?” Severin asked. He let the silky material brush Rich’s wrists and waited for permission. 

“Yes, yes,” Rich panted. By the time Severin had tied his arms securely behind his back, Rich’s cock was hard between his thighs. 

“It seems I’ve already turned my little toy on,” Severin said, giving Rich’s cock a stroke. “I guess I could just try you out. Just once. No one will notice if I put you right back again.” 

“Mmm…” Rich’s cock was dripping with pre-cum. 

“Where’s your lube?” Severin asked, breaking out of the game for a moment. Richard seemed a little beyond words, but he gestured his head shakily to his bedside drawer. Severin made a quick job of retrieving it. He then picked Rich up and unceremoniously dumped him at the head of the bed, so Rich's head could rest on the pillows, while Severin spread Rich's legs. Rich seemed to enjoy Severin’s manhandling, which was just as well; Severin enjoyed it, too. He was used to being at his partner’s disposal, instead of the other way around. 

“Merry Christmas to me…” Severin murmured as he spread Rich’s cheeks. He would have loved to take his time kissing Rich’s arse, but Rich seemed so eager that he thought he’d spare him. 

And, in truth, there wasn’t much going through his mind except, _Gonna fuck Richie, gonna fuck Richie, gonna fuck Richie._

Richard cried out when Severin’s finger first teased around his hole and entered him. Severin stopped with just the tip of his finger in, but Richard wriggled and moaned, “Deep, deep. Oh, nnngh, unwrap me…” 

“Unravel you, you mean,” Severin said appreciatively. Rich was so ready that he required minimal preparation; it was Severin’s willpower, rather than Rich’s, that gave him any preparation at all. With each additional finger inside him, Rich would only cry, “Deeper, deeper, please!” 

Severin grinned. He wasn’t usually the partner with the willpower. 

He had to pull out his fingers when he undressed, and although he was trying to be fast Rich kept crying, “Hurry, hurry, please. Need you, need you, need you.” 

“Little baby,” Severin said. “Never met such a talkative present before.” 

He was glad he’d tied Richie up, or else Rich would probably be tearing his clothes right now. 

When Richard saw his cock, which was rock hard, he seemed to snap out of his eager daze. He blinked, lips parted. Then blurted: “You’re bigger than Sebastian.” 

If Severin hadn’t already confessed his love to Rich, he would have done so then. 

“I know,” he said instead. “That’s what I keep telling him.” 

Richard appeared to have a moment of doubt regarding Severin’s size, during which he glanced down at his own slim hips and looked again at Severin’s more-than-considerable cock. His hole was open and eager, though, and he soon got over it. He went back to bouncing his little bum against the mattress. 

“Fill me, stretch me, fuck me. Unravel, unwrap, fuck, fuck, fuck – oh!” Richard stilled as Severin’s cock finally pressed against his hole. They moaned in unison as Severin filled him. Severin lay over him, arms on either side of his head. He stayed with his cock inside Rich as he brushed his lips against Rich’s ear and said, “Should have stuffed that ribbon in your mouth, baby. Such a talker.” 

“Nnnngh.” Richard squirmed. He caught sight of Severin’s hand pressed against the mattress and demanded, “Ooh, pull my hair, pull my hair.” 

Severin thrust in and out, making Richard yelp. He began a regular pace, taking a moment to appreciate the feel of penetrating a partner – a rare occurrence – and how especially tight Richard’s hole was. 

Then he took a fistful of Rich’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp, and growled in time with his thrusts: “What – makes – you – think – you – can – tell – me – what – to – do?” 

Richard screamed as Severin pulled his hair. 

“Harder, harder, harder,” he panted, and Severin wasn’t sure if he meant the fucking or the hair pulling, but he complied on both. Rich’s eyes were scrunched shut but Severin couldn’t take his own eyes off of him, off the way he was so thoroughly and helplessly unwound. 

He pulled out, so suddenly that Rich tried to grab onto him and, to Sev’s satisfaction, couldn’t. Rich struggled with his bound wrists before Severin grabbed him and flipped him over. He propped Richie’s arse on a pillow and recommenced his fucking, pounding harder this time. 

Richard’s screaming got even louder. 

He wrapped his hand around the ribbon, around Richie’s wrists. He was grinning to himself now that Rich couldn’t see him. 

“Tell me how much you like it, baby,” he said. 

“Oh, Rinny – Rinny – ’s so, so…oh. Oh. Oh. Rinnnnny!” 

Severin laughed and fucked harder. It wasn’t long before Rich was screaming, “Rinny! I’m so – so – close!” 

Severin was close, too. He wrapped a hand around to stroke Rich, but all it took was one touch and Rich was coming. His come gushed onto Severin’s hand and his hips rocked. He bit onto a pillowcase, pulling at it, managing to moan loudly through his own makeshift gag. 

The sight pushed Severin over the edge. With a decisive thrust and a, “Richard!” he came too, grabbing hold of Richard’s shoulders and burying his head into Richard’s neck as he came. 

He kept thrusting, milking himself empty, until Rich made a small noise. He was getting sensitive. 

Severin pulled out. Before him was the very satisfying view of his own load, dripping from Richard’s hole. He unknotted Richard’s ribbon and rubbed his little wrists. 

“That feel good, baby?” 

Richard rolled over to face him. 

“I am your baby,” Richard said. He smiled softly, and put out his arms to be hugged. 

Severin scooped up Richard maybe a bit too fast for his own post-coital dazedness, and squeezed him maybe a bit too tight for Richard’s little frame. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had wanted to cuddle after fucking. It wasn’t something most soldiers liked, definitely not something Sebastian had ever wanted. 

His own need to cuddle after sex embarrassed him, so he didn’t say anything. Just watched Richard snuggle in his arms, the picture of contentment. 

Then it happened again. He had to say it. He didn’t know what was wrong with himself, but he couldn’t stop. 

“I love you.” It came out in an involuntary rush. 

Rich snuggled closer. He didn’t seem put off. He hummed but didn’t say anything. Just tucked his head against Severin’s chest and closed his eyes, getting ready for a late evening nap. 

And Severin didn’t take naps, but in that moment Richard’s happy hum was the same as his demanding screams, and Severin would do anything, anything, that Richard wanted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I've stolen silverbit's (from Tumblr) headcanon that the Morans like to fight over who has the biggest cock. But I also imagine that Severin is a bit slimmer than Sebastian so, proportionally, he would in fact _appear_ to be slightly bigger.


	10. Rabbit Fucking

Over time Severin became acquainted with Richard’s sexual habits. 

The foremost being that sex, for Richard, was in fact a habit. He would do it all of the time, anywhere in the apartment (not outside of the apartment, disappointingly, and usually not when he’d just awoken), and be hungry for more afterwards. Severin could see now why it took both Sebastian and Moriarty to normally sate Richard. Then again, he realized, he’d always needed more than one partner at a time to keep him happy, too. Except now, they’d both found partners that could keep up with the other. Richard’s libido matched his own perfectly. 

He had thought, previously, that there was a negative correlation between Richard’s cuteness levels and his sexuality. That is, the more Richard revealed himself to be just as horny and cock-hungry as Severin, the less innocent he would become, and therefore the less adorable. 

On the contrary. 

First was Richard’s little mewls. He sounded like a kitten when he was full of Severin’s cock, and what wasn’t cute about that? Then, of course, there was the way he would squirm when he wanted it, or when he got it and was in the midst of coming. Nothing could be cuter than Richard’s small, wriggling hips. 

One of the sweetest habits Rich had was when, after he’d come, (and he always wanted a cuddle afterwards, of course, which Severin was completely game for), he would go on with long descriptions of what it’d been like. It was hugely flattering to Severin’s ego. Sometimes Rich would be too tired to talk at all; he’d just curl up against Severin and drift off to sleep. And that was flattering too, when Sev had left Rich exhausted and speechless. But Severin didn’t mind hearing about how great it was. 

Richard had a categorization system in his head for his various types of orgasms. Severin had never stopped to consider what different orgasms felt like, but Richard cherished them. And would tell Severin all about them. 

“That was a classic orgasm,” Rich would declare, still panting and bright-eyed. He hugged himself and smiled, eyes closed, looking perfectly at peace with the world. “A good, satisfying orgasm. Just right. Like warm chowder during a blizzard.” 

Or, once, Rich was especially disheveled, skin shiny with perspiration. Severin watched as, a full minute after coming, aftershocks of pleasure still washed through Rich, making him writhe. His mouth was running a mile a minute: “Oh, Rinny, it felt so good. It lasted…oooh.” Pleasure seeped through him, and he shivered. “It lasted ages, Rinny, _ages._ I thought I’d never stop coming. It still feels so…so good…” 

It’d be nice to know how to trigger those particular orgasms in Rich. Severin loved watching Rich struggle to take those last, pleasurable aftershocks. After a while he’d become too sensitive for them, and Severin would listen to his soft mewls, watch the way he writhed, no longer sure if it felt good or not. For someone so small, he sure felt intensely. Severin wanted orgasms like that. 

What mostly helped Rich stay cute in Severin’s eyes was the way Rich approached sex. Simply and instinctively, like – dare he say it? – a child. Before puberty, before Eton, Sev and Seb used to rub each other off in the sandbox behind their manor. They couldn’t ejaculate back then, but their brother’s hand always felt nice against them. They’d done it thoughtlessly, never feeling wrong or sinful. It’d just been good. Plain and simple. 

For Rich, sex was just good. No complications. 

If he came home and found Sev reading on the couch, he’d sometimes unbutton Sev’s pants and pull out his cock. He’d just suckle on Sev’s cock like it was a lollipop, seeming to find its hard presence reassuring in his mouth. He didn’t make a fuss about it. When Sev came, he’d swallow every drop of his come, not making a fuss about that, either. Then he’d tuck Sev back in and start dinner. That was that. Simple. 

He loved games and dirty talk too, of course, but even that was different. Dirty talk didn’t _feel_ dirty with Rich. It felt natural and fun. Children had puzzles and dolls, and adults had sex and dirty talk. Toys for adults. 

He wasn’t surprised – or disappointed – when he found out Rich didn’t like to be called dirty. Severin had let it slip out by accident. Richard had been on the floor, his lips and chin splattered with Severin’s come. Severin had his hand in Rich’s hair, and as he watched Rich lick his lips, he said, “Such a dirty boy, aren’t you?” 

Rich kept licking. He said, “No. I’m not dirty. I’m not filthy, naughty, or bad. I just like come.” He wasn’t admonishing, didn’t embarrass Sev. He just said what he felt and, after thinking about it, Sev felt it, too. 

Severin was so used to degrading the very act of sex that filtering himself – not using words like ‘dirty’ – was difficult at first. But Rich never got mad if he slipped up. He seemed to realized Sev was trying, and appreciated it. And Severin appreciated Rich’s attitude, too. It was…enlightening. 

* * * * 

_Soft mewls and a slim, squirming body beneath him. Pale eyelids flickering, bruised lips wet and parted. Brown hair matted with sweat, throat exposed and gleaming with fresh love bites –_

_Gorgeous pale arse, cheeks spread as his mouth licked and tasted hungrily. His tongue entered Richard’s hole, delighting in the earthy taste of him, and Rich wiggled his hips with pleasure, squirming his arse in Severin’s face –_

_Richard getting pounded into the bed, mattress squeaking (it didn’t do that in real life), his little mouth running. Severin loved it when his baby cursed. “Fuck, Rinny! Oh, Rinny. You feel so big, your cock is filling me up. You’re so big, Rinny, oooh – ”_

Severin’s eyelids snapped open. Dream-Richard’s moaning monologue had gotten him too excited for sleep. 

Hand creeping downwards to find a cock wet with pre-cum, Severin looked at the electric clock on the bedside table. It was 3 A.M. 

Perfect hour for fucking, right? 

Since he’d never done it before, he wasn’t sure how Richard would respond to being woken up with a request to fuck. So he started with light, ticklish kisses down Rich’s arm, which had been draped over Sev’s waist. 

Rich hummed softly. Even in the dark he was beautiful. Severin’s cock throbbed. 

“Mm…Rin? ’S’that you?” Cute blurry words. Severin kissed his lips. 

“It’s me, baby. Feel like waking up?” 

“No.” Severin couldn’t tell if Rich’s eyes were open or not. “D'you need something?” 

“Not necessarily. Just thought I’d tell you I was dreaming of you,” Severin tried. 

He thought Rich might roll over and go back to sleep, but luckily he seemed to have piqued Rich’s interest instead. Rich said, “Really? What happened in the dream?” 

“Hm…it’s a little hard to explain. Maybe I can show you.” 

“Yeah…show…” Richie yawned. Such a soft, pretty sound. “Show me.” 

“Gotta get you on your back, baby,” Severin said. He reached out and turned Rich over, so Severin could straddle him. First Severin tossed the blankets off them. Richard protested, too sleepy to realize that it might be hard to fuck under his heavy covers. 

“Aw, but baby,” Severin said to placate him, “I feel so hot, don’t you?” 

As he said this, he ran both of his hands firmly down Rich’s body, from his neck to his thighs. When he reached Rich’s cock, Rich let out an involuntary moan. That was one of Severin’s favorite moans; Rich always released it when Severin surprised him, like when he snuck up on him and gave his neck a kiss, or when he suddenly stroked his cock in the dark. A helpless moan. It struck a rare, dominant chord in him. 

“I do now,” Rich breathed. Severin could feel him getting hard. It really didn’t take much with Rich. 

“Good. Because in my dream you were nice and ready. And I was like this.” Severin straddled him. He could see the outline of Rich’s body in the dark, Rich’s flesh pale like ivory. 

“And what else?” 

“You were filled up to the very brim with me,” Severin said. 

“Huh?” Severin recognized now Richard’s teasing tone. “’m not sure what you mean. Filled up how?” 

“Let me show you.” It was easy enough to slip into Rich; he was still loose from the fucking they’d been doing before bed. When he entered Rich, Rich moaned again, a little reward. 

“Oh, like that,” Rich said weakly, getting breathless. “And then what?” 

“I kept doing this, this funny little thing. I’m not sure how to describe it. I would go out, and then in, like this.” Severin gave one, strong thrust. Richie squirmed beneath him. 

“Mm…” Severin thought he might give in then, and ask for Severin to just fuck him properly, but he said, “And that was the whole…the whole dream? Seems a little simple.” 

“Oh, there was more.” They played this game a lot, to see who would become unwound and helpless faster. Not sure why they bothered – it was always going to be Rich. “I had my hand just like this, in your hair, and I was tugging like this.” 

Rich leaned into the pull of his fist. 

“And you were telling me how good it felt,” Sev continued. 

“It does feel good,” Rich breathed. 

“And I kept doing this,” Severin thrust again, just shallowly, “again and again.” 

He continued to make slow, shallow thrusts, not enough for either of them, working on keeping his head clear long enough to drive Rich crazy. 

Because Rich was being obstinate tonight. 

“What else? Was that it?” Rich asked. 

“Oh, no, baby. Next, my other hand was here,” Severin’s free hand reached up, and with his thumb he found one of Rich’s nipples, rolling it lightly, just as Rich liked. He felt it become hard and pointed under the pad of his thumb. “And my tongue was doing this thing. I can’t quite remember, but I think it might have been…” 

His tongue skirted around the outside of Rich’s ear, then flicked inside it. Rich loved having the inside of his ear licked. It was fucking weird, but Sev was fucking weird, and he liked it, too. 

And that just about did it for little Richie. 

“Ooh… Fuck me. Rinny, ooh…” 

“Yeah! That’s it. That’s exactly what you were saying in my dream, Rich. How’d you know?” 

“Rin, I’m serious. Fuck me. Please, please, please. Please fuck me. Oh, oh…” Severin closed his eyes, smiling, waiting a few seconds just to hear Rich work himself up into a frenzy, clawing at Sev’s chest. This was why he bothered with this game; there was nothing in the world like hearing Rich beg. 

Finally, when Rich was all but screaming an incoherent chant (“Please-fuck-me-please-fuck-me-please-fuck-me-please-fuck-me-”), Severin gave in. 

And pounded. 

And pulled at his hair. 

And squeezed his nipples, bit his ear, his neck. 

And he was probably being too rough, but he was eager, too, and going by Richard’s increasing screams, he liked it. 

Richard was still clawing at his chest, but Sev just focused on fucking him as hard and deep as he could. Then he realized what Rich was saying. 

“Oh, ooooh. Rin, I’m so full. Oh. Oh. Rinny, you fill me up. You’re so big…oooh…” 

Severin kissed his forehead, trying to control his own moans enough to say, “You think I’m big, Richie? I fill you up right?” 

“Oh, yes, Rinny. Yes, yes, yes! Your cock feels so good. Nnngh…” 

Fuck him if that didn’t take him right over the edge. 

Rich came just before he did. He felt a brief flash of guilt for not taking care of Rich’s cock, but then he felt Rich’s teeth sink into his shoulder. Little one was a biter when he came. And if he was coming hard enough to bite, he clearly hadn’t needed help. 

Severin’s cock was enough for him. 

Severin came with his face against Rich’s hair, breathing him in. He made sure he was thrust deep inside Rich as he ejaculated, wanting Rich to have the feeling of Severin’s come deep within him. 

Then he pulled out, carefully, and collapsed at Richie’s side. 

There was a smile plastered on his face, even as he felt himself falling back asleep. 

_You’re so big._

“Dreams really do come true,” he murmured. 

“Hm?” Richie said. 

“Nothing, baby. Want some help getting clean?” 

“I’ll shower in the morning.” Rich yawned against Severin’s shoulder. “Wanna feel your come inside me for now.” 

That, and the little thing was probably too tired to get up. But the mental image Rich’s words conjured in Sev’s head pleased Sev, so he kissed Rich’s hair and, together, they fell into a deep sleep. 

* * * * 

They fucked in the shower in the morning, before Rich even had time to clean himself. Rich’s hands were braced against the shower tiles and he spread his legs, Sev using his back for leverage. Sev’s dry come from the night before was still all around Rich’s hole and, afterwards, Rich told Sev it had itched, but in a way he had kind of liked. 

* * * * 

Severin had finished dressing before Rich, as Rich took an inexplicable amount of time on his hair. He was sitting at the kitchen table when Rich came out, clad in jeans and a sweater. 

Although Severin was positive Jim could afford to buy Rich some nice, designer jeans, Rich always wore worn, ill-fitting ones. They were baggy on him, which shouldn’t have turned Severin on, but it did. Probably because they emphasized Rich’s slimness, or because Severin was aroused by the simple knowledge that he knew what Richard looked like under the shapeless clothes. 

Why Richard’s moose sweater was arousing, Severin truly couldn’t say. But it was, and the moment Severin saw Rich come through the kitchen doorway, he was horny all over again. 

He didn’t say so right away. Rich approached him, chirping, “Good morning, Rinny.” Severin had quite taken to Rich’s stupid nickname. Probably from all the times Rich had moaned it during sex. Severin loved the way Rich would drag out the name when he was close to coming; it was a filthy name, now. 

God. When had he started thinking of everything Richard did as being filthy? 

When the gods had started favoring him, obviously. 

“Morning, little one,” Severin said. Rich leaned over to give him a peck on the lips, like a perfect little wife, but Severin grabbed him and pulled him onto his lap. 

“Oh!” Richard gasped. So cute when he was surprised. 

Severin brought Rich’s mouth roughly towards him, tongue licking at Rich’s lips. 

Rich pulled away. Damn. 

“I’ve got to make breakfast,” Rich said. 

“I’ll make breakfast.” 

“I need to go to work. I can’t be late!” 

“When do you have to leave?” 

“Eleven.” 

Severin looked at the kitchen clock. It was 10:25. 

“A quickie. Then I make breakfast. Then you eat. You’ll be fine,” Severin said. He thought Rich would argue, but of course Rich didn’t argue. He was as constantly horny as Severin, and already pulling off his jeans. Little slut. 

Severin blinked. He’d never thought of Rich as a ‘slut’ before, never actually thought of anything truly filthy like that in association with Rich. But he liked it. Oh, he liked it a lot. 

But would Rich? 

Only one way to find out. 

“You’re such a little slut for me,” Severin growled, voice husky in the way Rich seemed to like. 

The effect was immediate. 

Richie turned red from his cheeks to his neck, and Severin thought he’d made a mistake, embarrassed him. _Abort, abort, abort._

But before he could make things right, Rich was sitting up, wriggling out of his briefs and yanking frantically at Sev’s at the same time. 

“I am your slut, I am, oh, yes. Rinny’s little slut. I’m your perfect little slut. Oh, fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me _now.”_ Severin pushed his hips up in order to awkwardly slide down his pants. He couldn’t get them off all the way, and Rich wasn’t completely free of his, either, but Rich’s arse was bare and Severin’s cock was free, and this seemed enough for eager Richie. 

In an awkward tangle of clothes, movements very restricted, Rich sat down on Severin’s cock. He was loose and lubed from the shower…and just in general, loose and lubed seemed to be his new state. 

He bounced. Severin didn’t have to move, couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Rich was working his cock, all while a stream of filthy words was unleashed from him mouth like an river flow: “I’m Rinny’s slut, Rinny’s fucktoy. I’m gonna milk you, Rinny, oh, ooh. And when you come inside me, I won’t clean up. I’ll just be your little comeslut. I’ll go to work full of your come, I’ll be marked, you’ll own me. I’ll work all day and no one will even know how dirty you’ve made me. Fuck. Oh! Fuuuck!” 

Rich scrambled, reaching for his cock. His own dirty talk seemed to get him off as much as it did Sev. Sev, for his part, didn’t have much to do but get milked, just as Rich said. The last thing he saw before he, like Rich, was coming, was Rich’s stupid moose sweater rubbing against his chest. And if he hadn’t been sure why it turned him on before, at least he had a good reason to like it now. 

Rich only fully took off his briefs and jeans after he came. Then they both sat panting on the kitchen chair, Rich’s head against Severin’s shoulder. After a few minutes, Rich looked up at Severin and planted a kiss on his lips. 

“Gonna make me breakfast?” he asked sweetly, blinking with his big, brown eyes. His foul mouth seemed a thousand miles away. 

Severin laughed. “Oh, my baby. Is there a switch on you somewhere?” 

“Huh?” 

“A cute little kitten one moment, and my own personal cock-milker the next?” Sev said. “I knew you were a talker, but I had no idea you could talk like _that.”_

Rich seemed worried. “Are you upset?” 

“If you hadn’t so effectively fucked me dry, I’d be hard all over again. I love it, baby. All of it. I love you, I told you that.” He rubbed Rich’s back, still chuckling, and added, “There was a time when I thought you were innocent, Rich. But, oh, how I have since been sullied.” 

* * * * 

Rich put on a new, less come-covered pair of pants while Severin fried him some eggs. The toast popped up just as Rich got into the kitchen. It was 10:50. Rich slipped his hand into Severin’s back pocket, taking the spatula from him and turning off the stove. 

“We have just enough time for another quickie,” Rich chirped in his ear. 

“Baby, I don’t think I can do that just now…” Maybe once, years ago, but not at his age. Sadly. 

But when Rich’s hand reached around to stroke the front of Severin’s jeans, and when he looked up at Severin, his eyes so wide and pretty with wanting, Severin’s cock had something different to say. Fuck. It was like he was sixteen all over again around Richard. 

Severin pretended not to notice his own, miraculous hard-on. 

“You need to eat some breakfast,” he said sternly. 

“I can eat toast on the way there,” Rich said brightly. “Or,” he added, “I can just swallow your yummy come. That would make me happy, which is more important than not being hungry.” 

Rich sounded as cute and filthy as a button. Well, then again, buttons weren’t filthy. Severin would need to think up some new similes. 


	11. Tender

One night, Severin did something unexpectedly tender. Richard was reading a book, laying in bed, when Severin appeared in the doorway. When Rich noticed him, he smiled in a way that let Rich know he had been there a long time. Just watching. Then his eyes scanned up and down Rich’s body. 

“God, you’re sexy,” he breathed, almost disbelieving. 

Rich hadn’t been aware of what he was wearing before, but Severin’s hungry eyes made him realize that he was in nothing but briefs. He didn’t like briefs that much; he was used to wearing panties, but he didn’t think he’d tell Severin about that. He barely knew him, after all. 

Richard didn’t feel very sexy. He felt soft and small. Mostly he just felt like he was reading a book. 

Severin strode into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, kicking off his boots. He still didn’t leave them by the door. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked. 

It was a rare occurrence when Rich didn’t want to have sex, but the cliffhanger of the chapter he’d just ended meant that occurrence was happening now. He said, cautiously, “I’m a bit tired.” 

“That’s okay,” Rin said. “Just touching.” The tip of his finger touched Rich’s side, sliding down his hip, following the curve of his leg. Richard hadn’t realized, but his legs were crossed, and he supposed he might look a little feminine, laid out on the bed as he was. He turned his page and continued reading, but said, “You can touch me.” 

He half-expected Severin to reach for his cock right away, but he didn’t. Just let his finger linger down to the back of Richard’s knee, following the slight curve of his calve muscle. 

Severin seemed to think Richard was actually reading, but he wasn’t. He was watching Severin out of the corner of his eye. Severin looked utterly immersed in gazing at Rich, in feeling Rich with his fingers. And his eyes contained a softness that made Rich’s heart flutter. 

When Severin’s fingers traced the insides of Rich’s thighs, Rich’s cock twitched. Severin reached for the waistband of Rich’s briefs, and Rich was about to tell him that a hard cock didn’t mean he felt less tired. But Severin only adjusted his cock in his briefs so his cock could face upwards, taking the pressure off it. Then he went back to touching Rich’s legs. The gesture was oddly thoughtful. 

He put down his book. The touches were too soft, too gentle. It made him feel…wanted. 

“Let me touch you,” he said, leaning up so he could help Severin out of his shirt. Severin undressed entirely, including his briefs. He was hard but he didn’t seem to expect Rich to do anything about it. Rich slid out of his own briefs. 

They were bare. Naked. They looked each other in the eyes, smiling. 

“Hello, little one,” Severin said. 

“Hi, Rinny.” He reached out and cupped Severin’s cheek. Severin had stubble that prickled Rich’s fingertips, and his skin was tan and rough. Rich felt so tiny whenever he touched Severin, but he didn’t mind. It was okay to feel tiny around Severin, because Severin made him feel safe. 

Rich moved over so Severin could lay down next to him. Severin reached out, putting his palm flat against Rich’s belly. Rich sucked in, suddenly aware of his lack of abs, or the way Severin’s own belly was so hard and toned. 

Then Severin lightly pinched him, gathering belly pudge between his fingers. 

“Rin!” Richard complained. 

Severin laughed. “What? You’re so cute.” 

Richard swiped his hand away. “’S’not nice.” 

Suddenly, Severin switched to singsong. He sang, “I want every little bit of you. Every little bit of you I want.” He pinched again. “Especially all the pudgy bits. You get this from eating your muffins and cakes?” 

Richard groaned and hid his head against Severin’s chest. “You’re awful.” 

“Every little bit…” Severin sang softly. He had a nice singing voice. Rich had never heard Sebastian sing before, so it was a surprise. He peeked up and planted a kiss on Severin’s throat. 

“My turn,” he whispered. He reached down and let his fingers trace the contours of Severin’s abs. They were beautiful. All of him was beautiful. 

“Of course,” Severin said, watching Rich’s fingers, “you already know what I look like, because of Sebastian. All of the mystery has been ruined for you.” 

“No,” Rich said. “You look different from Sebastian. Your muscles are harder and softer in different places. You have different scars and marks.” Making a point, Rich ran his hand over Severin’s left peck, his fingers spreading out so that they didn’t rub against Rin’s nipple. Sebastian, of course, didn’t even have a nipple there anymore. 

“Enjoy cataloguing the differences, then,” Severin said, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes. 

“I don’t care about the differences.” _I care about you._

Rich didn’t say it, but he hoped Severin knew. 


	12. Christmas Day

Christmas day. Severin hadn’t been able to spend much time with Richard on Christmas Eve, as Rich had been putting on a free performance of A Christmas Carol for a charity group or something. Apparently he did it every year. This had been fine with Sev, because the holiday had snuck up on him and he’d needed all day to think of the perfect gift for Rich. 

Severin had only known Richard for a month. No matter how he felt about Richard, he couldn’t get past that fact. He had no right to think up a gift with the same care he’d have if he were shopping for a husband or something, but he did. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to get Richard something special to remember him by. 

And he did pretty well, if he did say so himself. 

Christmas morning was one of the few times that Rich woke up earlier than Severin. The sun hadn’t risen when Severin opened his eyes to the sound of, “Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!” Richie was jumping above him, squeaking the bed. 

Severin reached out and grabbed his ankles. Richie tumbled on top of him. All of his weight was on Sev’s chest, but Sev felt like Rich was barely pressing. 

“Merry Christmas, Rich,” he said. Then he sniffed. His eyes widened. “Is that breakfast I smell?” 

He made to rise, to go to the kitchen, but Richard wouldn’t budge off him. 

“I’m bringing you breakfast in bed,” Rich said. “My first Christmas present.” 

“Aw, baby, you’re too good to me.” Severin reached out to bring Richie towards him, to give him a kiss, but Rich took one whiff of his breath and said, “Brush your teeth, Rinny!” 

Severin grinned. “After you kiss me, babe.” 

“Stink-y!” Rich said, scrunching up his nose. 

“Come on, baby.” Severin grabbed Richard and held him close as he tried to escape. “Kiss me. It’s my first Christmas present to you.” 

“You’re so gross, Rinny,” Rich said, trapped against Severin’s chest. “That’s a yucky present.” 

But he must have thought his own torture funny, because he giggled and pecked Severin on the lips. 

“There you go,” Severin said, releasing him. 

* * * * 

When he returned from the bathroom, mouth smelling fresh and kissable, he found their bed neatly made. On it was two trays. At first Severin wondered why they wouldn’t eat off the same tray, but then he saw. 

“Richie, you didn’t have to do that.” Delectable, greasy-looking sausages were on his own tray, while Rich’s stayed vegetarian. Along with the sausages were eggs, sliced tomatoes, fruit, toast, and grits. It was all laid out beautifully. 

“Merry Christmas,” Rich said softly. 

Severin was oddly touched. He figured the best way to show it would be to sit down and enjoy his meal, so he did. 

* * * * 

They were so full from their breakfast that it was a little absurd to want lunch, but Severin had been invited to Dalmar’s Christmas and he wasn’t going to miss it. He’d been visiting Dalmar and Dalmar’s husband, Faisal, while Rich was working; he and Dalmar hadn’t spoken since last year, but whenever they saw each other it was like no time had gone by. He felt strangely excited to introduced Richard to Dalmar and his family. He knew Mrs. Mensah, Dalmar’s mother, was not his own mother, and he knew Richard, whom he’d met weeks before, wasn’t exactly his fiancé, but for some reason he wanted Mrs. Mensah to meet Rich and like him. And he wanted Rich to know everyone he knew. 

Christ, he was a goner. 

Rich seemed a little awed by Dalmar’s house, which made Severin wonder vaguely how he’d respond to Augustus Moran’s manor. Not that he’d ever see it. 

Rich, though, was put completely at home when Mrs. Mensah walked out of the kitchen to the living room. She saw Severin and Richard standing side-by-side, Rich in his silly green sweater (“It’s festive!” he’d said) and Severin in one of Sebastian’s borrowed suits, and she immediately said, “You’ve found a keeper, Severin.” 

Severin gaped. He was too surprised to see Rich’s reaction, but after a moment Mrs. Mensah laughed. 

“I’m sorry, Sev, dear. I didn’t mean to startle you. But you’ve clearly found a very nice man. It’s nice to meet you, darling. I’m Mrs. Mensah. What might your name be?” 

She took Richard’s hand in both of her big, maternal hands, and Rich introduced himself. They were so immediately friendly with one another that Sev wanted to hug them. 

Lunch went smoothly. Dalmar and Faisal took to Richard (but who wouldn’t?), and afterwards Rich helped clean the table. When he was helping, Dalmar and Severin went to the living room. They sat in armchairs across from one another, cold beers in their hands. 

“He’s nice,” Dalmar said. 

Severin grinned. “I don’t know him that well.” 

Dalmar raised his eyebrows. “Your grin says otherwise.” 

“Fuck. I like him, Dalmar. A lot.” 

“Well, he’s crazy about you, Sev. You’re both crazy about each other. Everyone can tell just from looking at you.” 

Severin couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. It wasn’t that he’d actually expected anyone to dislike Richard, but it was just so nice to introduce him at all. He felt proud. Of what, though, he wasn’t sure. 

He tried to be realistic. “My leave ends January 4th. I’ve known Rich for a month, and then I’m leaving him. He’ll forget about me.” 

“Perhaps,” Dalmar acknowledged with a slight nod of his head. “But going from the way he looks at you, I’d predict otherwise.” 

“I probably won’t see him for another year, if I see him at all,” Severin said. 

Dalmar shrugged. “And so what? When Faisal and I first met, we worked together for three days. Then we didn’t see each other for three years. And look at us now.” He raised his hand, gesturing to the gold wedding band. 

Severin had been overseas when Dalmar got married, and it still bothered him. He looked away. 

“I guess I’ll just see how he feels about me next year,” Severin said. The sentence sounded sour in his mouth. 

“How will _you_ feel about him next year, Sev? I don’t mean offense, but have you ever had a serious partner before? In your adult life? Besides your…” The word ‘brother’ went unspoken. 

“No,” Severin said. “And a year will be a long time to wait, but it won’t change anything. Nothing could change this. Not on my end, anyway.” 

Dalmar smiled and raised his mug. In that moment, Faisal and Rich came into the living room. When Rich saw Severin, he immediately blushed, making Sev want to know what they’d been talking about. 

“Cheers,” Dalmar said, and he and Dalmar touched glasses. “And a merry Christmas to you all.” 

* * * * 

The entire way home, Severin kept thinking about Mrs. Mensah calling Rich a ‘keeper.’ He wished he’d looked at Rich when she said that. But Rich didn’t mention it, and he wasn’t about to bring it up. Rich sang Christmas carols under his breath the whole time, very badly. Severin loved how terribly he sang. 

As soon as the front door opened, Rich was a tiny whirlwind of motion, kicking off his shoes, pushing off his coat, and going, “Presents! Presents! Presents!” 

Severin laughed. “No tea first?” 

“I’m too full!” They’d stayed at Dalmar’s hours after lunch had ended, so that it was dark now. But Richard had been nibbling on sweets the whole time, so of course he wasn’t hungry. What a little sweet tooth he had. 

He made Severin sit beside the Christmas tree and shoved a box into his hand, eliminating his need to make his own choice as to what gift he should open first. 

It was very neatly wrapped, and Severin ran his hands over the tape for a moment, imagining Rich’s hands creasing the paper in his loving, careful way. Then Rich said, “Open it, open it!”, and he did. 

In a cardboard box, protected with tissue paper, was a knitted round thing. Severin wasn’t sure what it was, but he could tell Rich had made it himself. 

“It’s for your canteen,” Rich said. “You use a canteen in the desert, right?” 

Severin nodded. 

“I thought it probably got hot to touch, sometimes, so you can put that over it,” Rich said. He was looking down, cheeks touched with pink. He seemed suddenly embarrassed. 

Severin’s throat felt thick. Rich was right, although it took a very thoughtful person to ever think of it. Severin’s canteen got so hot that he couldn’t hold it to drink from, sometimes. He looked up. 

Fuck, fuck. He couldn’t speak. 

He gestured for Rich to come over to him instead. Rich crawled onto his lap, and Severin kissed his hair. 

“I love it,” he finally said. _I love you._

Rich looked relieved. Then he said, hopeful, “My turn now?” 

Severin nodded. He reached for a box for Richard to open, just as Richard had done for him, but Richard chose a box of his own. He began to tear through the paper like an eager child. 

“I…I don’t know if you’ll like this,” Severin said. His gift suddenly seemed raunchy, selfish, and crude, compared to Richard’s. “If you hate it, just forget I got it.” 

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Rich said, but Severin didn’t share his confidence. Rich opened the box. 

* * * * 

He tore away at the tissue paper and then stopped. He saw beautiful, light pink lace. His fingers ran over it; it was soft and delicate, easy to tear. His heart was beating fast as he pulled the material out of the box, holding up a beautiful, transparent chemise. It had thin straps and frills at the hemline, and it was lacy all over. It looked like it would fit Richard just right, and he already ached to try it on. 

At the bottom of the box was a pair of matching, lace panties. 

“I realize my gift is…bold,” Severin started. 

Bold? It was perfect. More than perfect. Here Rich had been so fearful that Severin would discover this about him. That he’d open one of Richard’s drawers one day and find his collection. And now, without even knowing how much Richard enjoyed it, Severin had gotten him lingerie. And it was pastel pink and pretty and just, just right. 

“I love lingerie,” Rich said breathlessly. “Severin, how did you…? How did you know?” 

He looked up and saw that, by the way Severin was blinking, Severin clearly hadn’t known. Somehow that made it even better. 

“Lucky guess?” Severin tried. 

Richard had assumed that, if Severin liked lingerie at all, he’d like the bright, complicated, sparkling kind. But this was so simple and sweet, and it matched Richard’s taste. It was so flattering to imagine Severin picking these out, thinking Richard would look nice in them. 

“You really like it?” Severin asked. 

“I love it,” Richard said. “Does this mean I can stop wearing briefs around the house now?” 

“What?” 

“I don’t like briefs. I only own a few pair. I’ve had to start wearing Jimmy’s briefs because I thought you wouldn’t like my panties,” Rich confessed. 

Severin snarled. “You’ve been wearing Moriarty’s underwear?! Rich, please don’t ever do that around me. I’ll get sick.” Then he seemed to fully process what Rich had said. “So you…you normally wear panties?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“And you waited twenty-five days to tell me this?” Rin asked. 

“Yes?” 

“You could have been waltzing around the apartment in panties this entire time?” Severin asked. 

Rich offered a sheepish smile. “Oopsies.” 

“Don’t keep secrets from me, baby,” Severin said. 

“You should open my other gift,” Rich said. “It goes with the panties, and it’s about not keeping secrets, too.” 

“Alright,” Severin said. And even though he liked lingerie, Richard was a teensy worried his next gift wouldn’t interest him. He wasn’t afraid, though. If Severin didn’t like it, Severin could just not use it. At least he’d know one more thing about Richard. 

“Baby…” Box opened, Severin lifted a thin, leather leash, which was attached to a collar. The collar had a bell in its center, and both the collar and leash were a light blue, complementing the lingerie. 

It was perfect for a dog. Or a pup. Or Richard. 

Richard looked at him hopefully, waiting for a response. 

“You want me…to put this on you?” Severin asked. 

“If you want to,” Rich said. Yes, yes, yes. Please, please, please. 

Severin’s full, cocky grin spread on his face. Rich loved that grin. He looked enormously pleased with himself. 

“You wanna be my little pup, Rich?” His big hand stroked the leash, feeling its smooth leather. 

Ooh, he understood perfectly. Perfect, perfect Severin Moran. 

“Yes,” Rich said. If he had a tail to wag, he would. 

“I get to be your master?” 

“Yes, Rinny,” Rich said. Severin looked up. 

“I said I’m your master, Rich. Call me ‘master,’” Severin said. There was one more box under the Christmas tree, from Sev to Rich, but Sev ignored it. “Take your present and go to the bedroom. Get pretty for me, baby, and we’ll give our new toys a try. Take this, too.” He tossed Richard the collar. The silver bell tinkled. 

“Yes, master,” Rich said reverently, and he hurried to follow Severin’s orders. 

* * * * 

The little, fucking, dirty – 

No, not dirty. Severin corrected himself in his head. But the little, horny kitten. Fuck every innocent impression Severin had ever had of Richard. Richard was _bad._ Fuck, no. Not bad. But he was a little sex machine, a kinky pup. 

Literally, a pup. Ooh, Severin was going to enjoy this. As much as Severin enjoyed being someone else’s bitch – he was plenty dominated in the army, and by his brother – Rich was making him realize just how nice it was to be the boss sometimes. He took his time in the living room, taking off his suit jacket, collared shirt, and undershirt. Shirtless, he still wore the suit pants and belt. He grabbed the leash and went into the bedroom. 

Richard was waiting for him. Severin’s breath hitched. 

Rich was on his knees and hands, looking expectedly up at Severin with his gorgeous doe eyes. His bottom lip was slightly pouted, and firm around his neck was his new collar. He wasn’t wearing the chemise, just the panties, and the pink complemented his pale skin even more prettily than Severin had hoped. 

“Puppy,” Severin said, stepping into the room. Richard’s head, from the floor, barely reached his groin. “Are you ready to be owned?” 

He took Rich’s chin in his hand, tilting his head upwards. Richard felt so delicate; it was important to treat him gently. His finger flicked the bell on the collar, making it jingle, and then he clicked the leash into place. 

Rich looked up at him and yelped softly. Oh, fuck. The noise went straight to Severin’s cock. 

It was clear from what a practiced pup Rich was, not saying a word, that he’d done this before. The kinky little thing was gonna get it. 

Severin patted Rich on the head, scratched behind his ears. Rich closed his eyes and panted, tongue slipping from his mouth. His cock was already hard, falling out of panties not meant to contain his full package. 

“You wanna show me what a good pet you are?” Severin asked. Rich released another quiet yelp. “That’s right, pup. Why don’t you turn around and show your master how pretty you are in those panties? Show yourself off for me, pup.” 

Rich turned around on all fours and expertly stuck out his round bottom. It looked delectable and plump, cheeks only half-covered by the transparent lace. Severin reached out and smacked it, just lightly. Rich made another noise from his throat. 

“So pretty,” Severin said approvingly. He smacked it again. Rich’s spine arched in pleasure. 

Liked that, did he? 

“Get on the bed,” Severin said. “That arse needs more attention.” 

Severin got on the bed too, still not fully undressed, and he motioned for Rich to crawl over him, planting his bum on Severin’s lap. Severin gave him another smack, loving the way Rich’s flesh moved beneath his palm, loving the way Rich keened. 

“You wanna get spanked, baby? I could spank you until your cheeks match your pink panties,” Severin said. He took the jingle of Rich’s bell for an enthusiastic ‘yes’ and spanked again, just a bit harder. Richard moaned in a way Severin had never heard a real puppy moan. 

The kinky baby really liked it. Severin released a series of spanks, moving his hand all over Richard’s arse, aiming for a nice, even shade of pink. As enticing as his panties were, Severin yanked them down to Rich’s knees and focused on the bare skin. With one hand, he spread Rich’s cheeks, and with his other hand he smacked, lightly, at Rich’s hole. 

That got him going. 

He squirmed, moaning, trying hard not to say a word. His bell jingled and he bit at the duvet underneath him, crying into the cloth. 

Sev kept spanking his hole, inducing a whole chorus of mewls. Rich’s pre-cum was spewing like crazy, wetting through Sev’s suit pants. Still spanking, Sev reached for the lube on the bedside table and slicked a finger. He pushed it into Rich’s hole. 

He could tell Rich was talking through the duvet. 

“Quiet, pup,” he warned, tugging at the leash. He’d have to get Rich a gag, after this. 

He spanked Rich’s cheeks with one hand and worked him open with the other, driving him crazy the whole time. Then he pushed Rich out of his lap and, before Rich could recompose himself, grabbed his hips and propped his arse up in the air, using the leash to yank his head against the mattress. He unzipped his own pants and, without taking them off, freed his cock. 

“Little doggy,” Sev cooed. Richard’s bright pink arse looked gorgeous in the air. Another smack for good measure, and then he pressed his cock against Rich’s hole. 

He yanked the leash up, so Rich was forced to take the duvet out of his mouth. Then he pressed Rich’s head back down again. Rich got the message: no gag. He didn’t know why, of course. 

Severin didn’t move for a while, simply listening. The room was quiet except for Rich’s persistent moans, trying to coax Severin’s cock inside him. Severin just stayed as he was, cock touching but not entering Rich’s hole. 

Then he fucked. 

He entered Rich and pulled out, giving Rich no time to adjust, and then he was entering again. He forced his whole cock inside, deep, and pounded fast, relentless. He waited to see if Rich asked him to stop, but instead he just got what he’d been hoping for: A whole stream of Rich’s special, surprised moans, turning into screams as Rich registered that his arse was getting suddenly and thoroughly pounded. 

Severin closed his eyes, holding the leash right near Rich’s collar, giving him no space to move. He focused on fucking as hard as he could. It was brutal, maybe too brutal for Rich, but Rich just kept on with his pleasure-cries. 

It didn’t take Severin long to come. He pushed deep into Rich, letting out a single, “Fuck!” His entire body tensed and shook, hand squeezing Rich’s shoulder. He bit his lip so hard it bled until, finally, he pulled out. 

Rich was still hard. 

Severin flipped him onto his back and bent down, sucking roughly at Rich’s cock. Rich was mewling uncontrollably, practically sobbing, and his legs wrapped around Sev’s head as he sucked. He came in a gush in Severin’s mouth. 

Severin didn’t swallow, didn’t let Rich recover. He slid up Rich’s body and grabbed him by the collar, yanking his lips towards Sev’s. Sev forced Rich’s mouth open with his tongue and let Rich’s own come enter Rich’s mouth. 

Rich kissed Severin through the come, passing it back. Most of it spilled onto Rich and Severin’s lips. 

“Lick it for me, baby. Clean me up like a good pup,” Severin said. 

Rich lapped at Severin’s mouth, taking up his come. Severin stuck two fingers between Rich’s thighs and gathered some of the come was the flowing from his hole. He brought the fingers up and stuck them between Rich’s lips. 

“There we go,” Severin was cooing. “That taste good, baby?” 

Rich gave a shaky moan. Severin reached for his collar and unclasped it. Rich lay panting. 

For a moment Severin was worried he’d hurt Rich. He’d gotten a little carried away with his rough pounding. 

“You alright?” he whispered. 

Rich’s eyelids fluttered open. Severin moved from on top of Rich to his side, and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, wiping his wet hair off his face. 

Rich let out a weak sigh. He closed his eyes again and nuzzled Severin’s bare chest. 

“Can we do that again?” he whispered. Severin paused, then smiled. He opened his mouth to answer, but in seconds Rich was asleep. 

* * * * 

Severin’s final present wasn’t opened until they’d woken, after midnight, and cleaned themselves. Fresh from the shower and in comfy, plaid pajamas, Rich teased Rin that Rin’s second gift might not be able to live up to his first one. 

Richard’s arse might be a bit sore from Severin’s thorough fucking, but it had been well worth it. 

The gift was in a tiny box. Richard’s first thought was so stupid that he felt ashamed even thinking about it. An engagement ring, he thought, but of course people didn’t get engaged after knowing each other for twenty-five days, and of course Severin wasn’t the marrying type. 

He unwrapped it curiously then, having no idea of what it could be. Severin waited with a poker face. 

He pulled out a slip of paper. And then another. Read what they said. 

Plane tickets. 

“To Paris,” he said. He just looked at them for a while. 

From December 31st to January 3rd. Paris. With Severin. Over New Year’s. 

He looked up at Severin, who was now wearing a smile on his lips. He laughed, and Richard laughed, too. 

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Severin said. 

“Merry Christmas, Rin,” Rich said. The apartment was warm, although through the windows Richard could see that rain was beginning to fall from heavy clouds. The lights of the Christmas tree were on, sprinkling Severin’s handsome face with red and green. And everything, absolutely everything, was perfect. 


End file.
